May these vows and this marriage be blessed.
May it be sweet milk,
this marriage, like wine and halvah.
May this marriage offer fruit and shade
like the date palm.
May this marriage be full of laughter,
our every day a day in paradise.
May this marriage be a sign of compassion,
a seal of happiness here and hereafter.
May this marriage have a fair face and a good name,
an omen as welcomes the moon in a clear blue sky.
I am out of words to describe
how spirit mingles in this marriage.

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.

The moon has become a dancer
at this festival of love.
This dance of light,

This sacred blessing,
This divine love,
beckons us
to a world beyond
only lovers can see
with their eyes of fiery passion.

They are the chosen ones
who have surrendered.
Once they were particles of light
now they are the radiant sun.

They have left behind
the world of deceitful games.
They are the privileged lovers
who create a new world
with their eyes of fiery passion.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

who knows if the moon’s
a baloon,coming out of a keen city
in the sky—filled with pretty people?
(and if you and i should

get into it,if they
should take me and take you into their baloon,
why then
we’d go up higher with all the pretty people

than houses and steeples and clouds:
go sailing
away and away sailing into a keen
city which nobody’s ever visited,where

always
            it’s
                   Spring)and everyone’s
in love and flowers pick themselves

i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing.
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body.  i like what it does,
i like its hows.  i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones,and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the,shocking fuzz
of your electric furr,and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh….And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you so quite new

The words I can't help but repeat
makes every line feel so incomplete.
The bones under alabaster skin shake.
She whispers,
"Be calm, this is no time to quake."

I don't know what I did
to bring myself to this place.
They ask me how I feel
and I say, "I need some space."

To you that you can't recall,
to love her is to love most of all.
I try to rearrange how I feel
and I allow you to take the wheel.

You can cause a wreck-
I said, "You can cause a wreck."
And I promise to pull you from the debris
because that's what you did for me.

Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.
Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.

I don't know what I did
to bring myself to this place.
They ask how I feel
and I say, "I need some space."

To put myself together
in puzzle pieces, forever.
To try to solve a ******
when the victim is the killer.

Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.
Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.

The words I can't help but repeat
make me feel so incomplete.
I let the words escape
and I promise myself I won't break.

They ask me what is wrong.
I say, "Everything about this song."
I feel so helpless and weak,
I couldn't sing this, let alone speak.

The rhyme scheme isn't diverse.
I say, "Take a look at this verse.
And I'm not sure if it has a bridge,
or that anyone knows I'm at Chestnut Ridge."

Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.
Chestnu-uh-uh-uh-ut.

The words I can't help but repeat,
make me feel so broken down.
Alabaster bones shake.
She whispers,
"Please don't stop looking now."