I have been stalking your travel maps:
always my source of agitations.
Your tastes are eclectic. My skin is
pale brown, the kind that has seen
sun in equal amounts of moon. We
tend to need a muse to write us,
in order to feel our lungs understand
the system of breaths. You can reel
a line into the oceans over which
your amazement strikes its wheels,
and pull into your nets a whorl
of sirens, but distance is fanciful
in the manner of staid aspirations.
Owning a mind that reads the implicit
has left me seeking answers from that
which doesn’t exist. This will be how falling is:
watching you from behind exhaustion.
Sheikha A. is from Pakistan and United Arab Emirates. Her work appears in a variety of literary venues, both print and online, including several anthologies by different presses. She has work upcoming in Dreams and Nightmares, Poetry Repairs, Down in the Dirt [Scar Publications] and Lonesome October Lit. More about her can be found on sheikha82.wordpress.com