Omer Mujahid Poetry

Your kiss
fades
against the cold stone column.
Your fingers in my hair,
pulling me softly
into a lullaby.
Your lips, a cradle -
resting my head against your chest.
I rise and fall with your breath.
Carry me
on this shallow ship,
clear and soft as the tears
at the corners of my mouth.

You held my hand from miles away.
Your eyes mask, in my honor -
a Mardi Gras
a parade of apparitions -
naked ghouls, witches, voodoo dancers
masked and laughing at my expense.
I lick away the salt from my lips
in silence.

Tonight I will rest my weary cheeks
on that stone column.
I missed you as soon as I met you.

Poet: Meghan Helmich