After Aphrodite Desiree Navab’s Super East-West Woman
The dervish in me can’t let go of my addiction

to theory. There are so many ways to explain

the tragedy of devotion; all the names of God

held captive by I. Come inside my blue cocoon,

lavish in a curiosity the state disputes. I didn’t say

I was really about that life. I said blue, not blew.

Heaven isn’t a happy ending, you know?

Heaven is crawling inside of a mirror and redraw-

ing with obsidian edges, to kill off crystal growth.

I never wanted to be a lava angel, or a good example.

When I say home, I mean origin as a transitive verb.

When I say love, I mean these miracles are work.