We try, but cannot watch each other’s day,
leave clues and follow them. A single word
tells me a rowdy evening has occurred,
tells you I heard a street musician play

a song that moved me. So we fabricate
lives for each other to fill in the gaps.
Your photographs of shoes may hint perhaps
your next designs, some poem I translate

at all the languages I use for love.
Weather reports tell me that there is rain
beating against your window. Almost pain
this sense of seeing you at one remove

building my sense of you shard upon shard
makes art perhaps simply by being hard.


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to MUSE13

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s