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Jamila
by Geejay Arriola

Forgive the nearness
of amherstias
closing at a touch
when the heart that picks
is lush green and sunflowers.
What tension in my laughters,
residues from the near past
when the cold was too hot
and the wetness as dry
as a parched singer's throat.

Forgive the frost in a summerhouse
when the rain outside falls like
dewdrops to moisten the slowly
moving earth.

You are the shadow of the sun
soft as music fanning the hair
on my skin.

You are pebble of Alice Springs
red and tender as a blade of grass.

Forgive the cruelty of rosette windows
clouding the eyes of the mind
when behind the doors
are whispers of wisdom.

The goddess in me is the goddess
in you—a little, I know

But the blinds between remain
until the knowledge of our centers
awaken; the invading hand glorifying
illusions shakes in pain
from truth.

 



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Suppressed
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