Swathed in cherry fabric and saffron sands
Al Ain, that green stitch to cradle
You and I dragged sleepily from past to now.
When I think of you
My cheeks breathe the tangerine light of bonfires
Like a peach smell smudged across my skin.

Whoa whoa whoa
I can see that old island in an ocean resting
Between my ears
A certain self in a skull in a blue room surrounded by sand
We were quick sketched concentric circles;
Age markers on a big oak tree.

It’s easy to see how we got to be so happy
Circles in circles in circles
Drawn with steady hands
Never alone or the one on the outside.
I was a tangled curl when we unravelled
A heap of wood shavings from a forest felled.

White fur and pink paws gasped
When the glass shattered
I let those angry rabbits shit all over the floor
Pink noses twitching while they leapt through the mess
So I locked myself in the shower
And let them go to town.

I’ll admit I ran from them
Those soft shaking sighs that used to litter our pillows
I scared them with bitter drinks and bad decisions
I made them invisible and dusted them,
Their whiskers twitching,
Back into the shadows.

And now? Life plopped me back on your
Doorstep (thank you)
And the rabbits left a green stitch
Our own Al Ain, pristine.


Artwork by Kozyndad, “uprisings” 2003

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