Please, no more sighing eyes-- instead
let’s run away to Rajasthan, imagine:
dusty candy-bar wrappers smearing sand.
--will we forget ourselves by morning?
whirling just enough, smog-steeped
snakebite throbbing on your neck &
imagine: it’s my venom.
How long do we have left? After
sunrise splits our bones to feed its fire,
will you still trust me?
fading desert dance-partner I thought
could be you-- my Sheherezade, ours
before abandoned dawn sneaks across
a single grey hair, light-singed pink.
And your hands find my breast, coax out poems,
until the world wakes & we pretend not to know each other,
except on mountains,
and motorcycles.