Buzzing

Vilified illustrations
mask the minds canals
No birds sing but they just buzz around
in circular epiphanies
-possibilities of flight

I think of your amethyst paintings
the way you lay out autumn for these birds to feed
tabahi
tauba
tazurba
Words become anklets to this unrestful leg of a painter
her hands buzz over the paper
words leave the paintbrush
and autumn becomes a dictionary

dhuk dhuk
the fluttering of the waves
besahara
bechain
beintaha
beizzat
branches of the night
there is too much saliva on the color-mixer
It steals that lux from our amethyst

The writing drips like rainwater caught in the buzz
Too late to pour and too agitated to rest
It is not the polite winter that will ask you to cover yourself
It will be the power of water that will erase you
from these illustrations

I see you hiding in comic panels
dressed in metal bells

I see you
sar-e-aam
sarfarosh
sakht
as a petal buzzing in anticipation
of a dew and a dew in anticipation
of a bird and a bird in anticipation
of a song. Stuck in its music.
drawn out on the tongue
like autumn
unbuzzed

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