Scars of Rapture

Shams, I have done everything I know

so this would not happen.

You came into my life

like a wing of fire,

possessing and possessed

by something not seen.

When you first spoke

my books turned to clay,

and my throat closed

around a lost syllable.

Your eyes burned over me,

leaving scars of rapture,

my spirit became a field

swept clean by flame.

Can you think how it was

that morning I woke first,

and found you,

an unbound mystery

by my side.

Or the day we did not eat,

but drank from one another's light

till we were ribboned by dusk.

The air here holds only emptiness,

a little dust stirring.

I think there will be wind tonight,

and the camels will cry out

in their sleep.