If I only knew
you were all right
or even just okay
or less than all right
but alive
I could survive
in this –
this place
where there are shops
clinics
even makeshift toilets
and tampons distributed
by companies with
corporate responsibility
If only I could imagine we
found each other
down a de-mined
stretch of parched
road
on a thirsty day
I could swim endlessly in
this river of pity and
not drown in the monsoon shit
If I saw you
I would recognise you
I’m sure, I’d know that skin
those bones
if only I knew you were
alive somewhere
then I could wait forever
to be out of
here:
where kindness
is injected in small doses
and love is
a warm cup
of nestomalt
offered by bewildered hands.
But I don’t
and my love for you
is a bullet lodged
deep in the belly
and sometimes
when I sleep
I dream we are
making love
and waking up
is barbed wire
slicing the lips.
