A city was once abundant in candles,
then darkness became a language
all lineage, all expressions were tightened
unknown maladies surfaced
on alveolar and dental ridges.

From the darkness emerged ghazals
carefully sifted, transplanted
and grew across the continent like ivy—
in the exiled incubator
with my oxygenated English
and a souvenir worn for diplomatic huff ,
I see you. From where I will bring
the pitcher-maker’s whirl and an uncensored lurk—
you inserted putty on the right chinks,
had a porcelain brimmed with strange potions,
a hand familiar with similes and Persian fluff
quilting the cradling cities in poems.

Your poems have cloned
in rugged and even places
where language is a mutilated wick.