Behaving Like a Statue

by Anna Ruiz

Part I

I Have Not Words

I have not words for you,
not even this insipid Poem
the earth is seeping blood now,
and we slowly die
sentimental dreams
shrivel brown
by the wayside —
roads that lead nowhere

faceless
the infinity clock —
incurable
emaciated and carnal

mindfulness is shallow at this end of the ocean,
and hope is a promise that can never return —
flesh gathers
unearths another corpse,
another time of time,
cold-eyed distance, ignoble wind

bone to bone, skin over skin,
we are unforgiven in the howl of this night

... heavy our hands
... dying sparrows and wilted orange blossoms

Part II

once in a while,
time stands still
in an act of contrition
in the counterpoint of
an eternal dance with
the Beloved

Rumi finds Shams
hidden in the last lotus

under his own beard,
and I find You, my Darling Poet
in the resurrection temple
of Isis in the funerary
robes of an alabaster Shekmet
shining
in the jewel of the Nile,
dedicated to my own search
for myself,
long hidden in the
curls of my fingers,
deeply cut into my hollow bones.

cat-like, winged with feathers etched away
by eons of sand.

Part III

How keen the blade
how precious this mortal wound
how silent this wandering heart,

this indifferent witness
aching of Love’s flesh and word.