I know that I did this to myself
subconsciously and silently
repulsive and frightening
to all but the select few
minds whom run on delusion

Sayest timshel from leaf and vine
You keep yours and I’ll keep mine

I vow not to be a shoulder to cry on
A balm to that Sartrean dis-ease

At which even he would shake his head.
Can you choose when things are weighted

By our stones a lapis and gold?
Of truncations of freedom to you

Even seem old? You, you step back
From the depths, from your behest

For know you are learned, deserved, and
White, your struggles aren’t so lead

Lament, can I, at no progress
Being the same in thought, though

Practice, marked indifference. We are
Not free, nor are we doomed

Rail against thyself and bear
And bite your teeth at the cord.

i search, i look
for sublime touch,
of meaning in
the dirt and dust.
a shred, a crack,
a false perception,
scrying clues of misdirection:
more to life,
greater meaning,
imagination quelling reason.
yet, as always, in conclusion,
symmetry
it slays delusion.

She talks about her ardent belief
in the importance of social equality,
on the school run to drop off her kids
at their expensive private school.

‘’Sisters are doing it for themselves’’
she later maintains, before dividing up
(between herself and the female maid)
the cooking, cleaning, cooking, cleaning,

For her kids and husband, whose ‘’good’’ job
pays for their two fancy cars
their big house in the suburbs
and her slim-fit size eight clothes

(For her, the worse possible fate
would be to put on weight,
she warns her daughters
against this horror constantly.)

During coffee after her yoga class,
she talks up her bohemian, free-spirited ways
while desperate to maintain a tight grip
on everything around her

Later, lying down in her colourful prints
and ethnic jewellery, she tries to articulate
to her expensive psychiatrist

why something feels amiss.

You are not here
though you are breathing beside me,
in the hole I have dug from dream to reality,
stitching the wound to stop my mind bleeding;
reminding me to breathe easily.
You fill it up when you are not with me;
but you are not here,
you are not with me.

After, a long drawn out burning kiss
that opened a never healing wound
she leaves for the secret rendezvous
in a verdant oasis in a distant desert.
He didn't hear about her even after
light years, remembrance of that
kept on haunting him, for reasons
he wanted to find, he burned and burned.

On a full moon night after million years,
searching in the desert, long hours
sweating and tired like a haunted animal
he found a magnificent Spinx,felt connected
fell for that feminine allure, curved hips
hypnotic eyes of a hermaphrodite,swell of *******,
that illogically prompted him to caress,

towering high at the end of an oasis,
wasn't it  a construct of desire?

he stood, feverishly desiring those pouting lips,
the moment next, missed the one inflicted wound,
in a pit inside  forbidden longings erupt
when speaking  language of desire, poisoned fruits too
taste dark poetry, nature flows to  symmetry
"No man or woman, loved me like that"
a whisper, then a hiss, in passion proclaims
there she was his one time lover, cheat, deserter
of his spirit's mating call, still he isn't free from delusions,
she abandoned him for another, in that too wasn't sure
yet another of her misadventure, does she repent?

"I didn't want to miss you like this" she says
"you mistook that I was in love with her, him or whatever"
entanglements, there were from the word go,
her eyes , he observed were sapphires,
her bleached white bones, were irresistible, totems
he wanted to preserve it in the museum in Cairo
her being grew in to him like an oasis
in a desert, a weary, insane, traveler reaches
just in time for the final peaceful hour before all resolve.

"Are you insane, what makes you do this again" a voice asked,
another million years would pass without any solace,
the sphinx, so magnificent then would be just a sand dune !
They hand in hand, would be walking over it,
that sweet oblivion would remain, birth after birth.