Ghazal for the stars


Through the trees the sky gapes open, weeping stars.
But silver tears cannot fight the indifference of the stars.

I trace the curve of your neck, follow your shoulder, mapping
the spidery blue rivulets as they flicker with the matter of stars.

Tuck the curtain to the side, press your nose against the cold window.
Breathe the snow through the glass; inhale the icy stars.

Your boat rips through the lake’s glass surface, rending
a gash through the glinting, sleeping stars.

I whisper again, “No,” but my voice is lost in the wet air.
My chest is heavy; I shut my eyes and watch the dancing stars.

Up the stairs, my heart sending ice through my veins.
Dante: “And thence we came forth to see again the stars.”

Leg wrapped around your waist, arm beneath your spine, fingertips
tracing your lips. I breathe out, and cast away the stars.

Light (lux, luz) seeps through the blurry strokes,
color pushing past its boundary.
My soul is starred.

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