Power lies in determined translation
of the tangled synapses
of costumed memories
filed as "unknown:"
emergent headstones.
Stationed in the headlight,
the whistle warns approach
is the engine love or fear?
Dopplered heartbeats deafen
the answer
we load thoughts into chambers
click...click...click
tongue quivers like a teapot door
hinting the sonic landscape
and, in a moment,
the mind's valve flies open to sing
exposing, bathing us in the white
rays of a smile
opening pores to light
or, in storm cold shot
slams shut
blood dives to reef
fear is the fighting fish
that picks the bones,
refracting love
pigmenting rage
power not exercised
love not exiled
by the bullet or fist
only a word.
Yasmeen Najmi
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