by Thérèse 'Awwad, translated by Kamal Boullata
My loneliness
ages like wine.
I arrest it
between parentheses
bridle it
together with the tumult
paste doubt to it,
question marks...
Meanwhile,
leaning against the pulsing surge
of the rain
I make love
to that hunger
deep within.
My loneliness
ages like wine.
I arrest it
between parentheses
bridle it
together with the tumult
paste doubt to it,
question marks...
Meanwhile,
leaning against the pulsing surge
of the rain
I make love
to that hunger
deep within.
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