Harmonies
You think you know. You think you know. You think you understand these words. But you don’t. What you hear is the song that overwhelms the true harmonies below. What feasts stir in your stomach is not what I feed, for in my cupped hands were mere crumbs and seeds of your fantasies. This tremble you feel in your heart is not the tremor of defeat, but the rumble of the running of my feet across crumbling concrete on slanted rooftop retreats. But you wouldn’t ever believe. So digest the façade as this is what benefits your nurture, and leave the deciphering of mysteries as a humbling blur. The cascading hair seen are not tresses, but a cloak to stop the obscene from entering me-- for the helter-skelter spider I saw in my dreams was drawn away with Surah Yaseen. Wander astray from shadowing trees after sunset, my mother told me, and when possible keep words divine escaping from lips like a holy rhyme of protection in the dark. And you couldn’t imagine how the sky in the day looks to me. Where I say I knew blue, I saw sheer white ecstasy. But when rays decreased, I have faded into me, to avoid the night's entities. And when you think I am speaking of someone else, it was a fleeting mention of you inaudibly, covered under plundering plays of poetics and racing words sprung beneath steaming sheets of thought and reality. And what affects me, and how I have rooted, bleeding sympathies, for those who assumed I never think of them, but instead they circle in my head constantly. Beautiful people, in my blood, in my world, and your faces in my heart twirling daily, deeply setting into me. How warm my soul becomes from your haunt—but I bet you never knew that I swallow love as each of you continually circulate through the veins of my destiny. You are sparks bouncing off my lunar beams. And when this midnight crosses, I rise quietly from my room, and take myself somewhere that you cannot go. But you think you understand these words. You think you know. How much I adore you. You think you know. But you don’t.
<< Home