in the style of the classical TamilLike a knotof yellownecked caterpillarson the underside of a witch hazel leafresponding to the approach of dangerby arching their soft bodies& freezing into a clumpof sudden thorns,hoping to ward off the caressof a wasp’s antennae:that’s what happensto me whenevershe smiles.
I am whoever I amI am however whoI should not be(or so my managementwhich is one Wordtells me)a candle that setmy wig aflamelove like a dooron a summer dayan almost kiss in the earseldom speaking(I cannot believewho I am)
I am alone as the clockor an orange in translationmean as a little sunblue at the difficulty of lovedo I take this world to be my wifetoday in her flower suita body in love is so muchwell-oiled uncertaintyits secret motions calling upa sea of my own