Nothing is lost to me

In my suitcase of diaspora I keep
An isolated sunset, murdered crows
A patch of grey sky that
cracks and falls
The patient stone of reminiscence
that turns into a hollow medicine
A dervish trading poetry for food
The glaring gaze of Medusa within
the wistful shadow of our cherry tree
A rain of cascading damaged eyes
Clandestine flora changing into faun
The faun running to the land of the
Dead, glowing bones in the dark,
glowing bones in the dark night
of the soul, the fading of an
imagined rainbow.

I take the scruffy suitcase to the beach
Sit on its corner, listen to the waves
that cut the shore to the song of seagulls.
Sand in my feet, wind in my hair, the ghost of
Now breaks free from the darkness of the
damned box.

A light seeps out of me.
A light seeps out of me, wind and water
erode the suitcase over time, break it
into white sand. Nothing is lost to me.
nothing is lost.

© Azadeh Azad, 2011

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