This road is the heart opening.
—Mirabai, “The Heat of Midnight Tears”
Together we built
these walls. Layer
after layer of mud.
It was cold. And windy.
And we had been
taught how to build
fine walls with whatever
materials we could find.
We had mud. And we
made it beautiful.
The flash flood,
of course, was a surprise.
And then came
the slow long rains.
And then, when
the walls were nearly
gone came the cold
with its knives
and the wind with
its sharp, sharp tongues
bent on evisceration.
Nothing left to shelter us
except the flesh—
now the only way
to stay warm
is to be close, love
closer than that.