By Kazim Ali
I fear dispersal but the resounding really sounds may be full of echo
or echolocation for the next round
Eye rowed in the guest book of God my many sacred tongues
body and bow
Fingers spell now all the spaces I open
You now verse now open oh pen
Cacti quiver for a century
In the desert I swam myself earthword to know
No time on earth and no breath no dearth
Hollowed out into architecture eternal
Who argues with rhyme or snow
Who knows the space in your here
The space in the storm so finely bowed
The space in snow no one nears
Source: Poetry (February 2019)
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