Letter to the Moslem

I write to you today
To a picture of you rather
You wear a cape
And ride through the desert
Kick up winds
Your horse is thirsty
The middle age sands have curdled on the shores
Of the blue-green sea
M – m-may –de-e
The broken shores of Alexandria
The boulevards of Paris
The dunes of misr
Holy stones
Turbans capes
Figs walnuts
Wives brothers
You enchanted
You conquered
In His name.
Your beard is grey now
Your step unsteady
Your strange papers in tatters
Your tongues torn
Your lovemarks erased from the stones
Your truths locked up
Your friends shun you
Your god is a failed state
Your gaze upon the horizon
In truth you loved
You loved more than they could imagine the possibility of four letters
You have seven words for love, don’t you?
I heard that in a movie
That’s how much you know to love
Tell them.
Now is the time.
There is no time.
Show us your seven loves.
Show us show us.


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