we begin because the worlds before ours ended

sometimes abruptly sometimes in burning

sometimes we survived & met      sometimes i

do not make it      sometimes you get better first

& feel burdened by my smell of smoke
the dead root me to strange cities & i wish you

would come visit  i shift the ghosts to one side

to make room for you in bed      i climb over

your sleeping body & make ablution in the dark

i kneel & say i’m sorry            i listen to a man strum

a carved & painted lute            the sound is liquid

& fills me      you wake & i am crying &

will not let you hear the song            you wake &

i am praying      shaping incantations

with my mouth      & never offering to translate