Omar ImadyPetalled Womb
Before your lips
Became a child
That neither you
Nor I
Had the courage to wean,
Long before
You learned
How to rise with my hips
And blow circles
With my father's cigar
I loved you.
And I know you could explain,
Even now.
Even your silence,
Even your absence
Explodes into my mouth –
A memory of a kiss
Wrapped in lemon ice
Sprinkled
With Manhattan's rain.
As I pretend to sleep
In this sleepless room,
As I pretend to have forgotten
The storm you left
Inside this petalled womb
I loved you.
Even before I trusted
You would always be here
To admire my hands,
Kneel with my soul,
And spar with my fear,
I let you in.
Long before
You even realized
You could open this door.