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