Separateness

Do not talk to me in a known tongue

I speak in the language of dry leaves

whispering on brown branches in autumn

Do not ask me to reproduce letters

I remember the lyrics in songs of birds

crooning to the green earth at dawn

Do not look for me on these dusty streets

I dance in the patterns of flaring comets

streaking across the sky in radiant abandon

Do not hold me as a being of this world

I've molded my body with the soil of otherness

gathering centuries of tranquility in my hand

The Cleansing

How do I peel these layers from my body
marks made by sulphur of worldly wants
greyish ash of burnt illusions on my feet
how do I wash my stained sooty skin

The sentences I write come out jumbled
the words I speak talk of riddles and needs
I want to argue with them but my voice agrees
from where do I borrow the language of truth

Like tall glasses of bitter potent wine
this existence enters my head and pounds
drumbeats of lists and tales of misfits
when do I let go of this drunkenness

I'm silent but my molten pain boils inside
I'm walking in lines when I was born to meander
I'm stumbling though I want to jump and fly
why can't I grow lightning like forked wings

Remake my heavy bones with feathers and flame
give me the hearts of thunder and wild falcons
dilute my thirsty blood with rivers of stillness
then maybe I can be free to meet my other self