Occupation
Weeds of sense anchored to heart's glinting rock
May kill off the torrents, the avalanches
Of self-conjured spectres, but my words knock
At your mind's windows, flood you like soup-steam
With earnest love for beings that never
Breathed, save in my imagination; 'til
Inked letters bound them to yours. Forever.
One face wind-scalloped like a wedding dress,
One falling thick and straight, a widow's veil
Bordered by crumbling stone, the mountains press
Flurries of emotion upon you, blind
Turn after snow-streaked blind turn. Clichés follow
Like sauces, as you snake through winding roads,
Whispering –
Hibah Shabkhez is a writer and photographer from Lahore, Pakistan. Her work has previously appeared in Arc Poetry, Meniscus, Thimble, Harpur Palate, Frogmore Papers, Potomac Review, and a number of other literary magazines. Studying life, languages, and literature from a comparative perspective across linguistic and cultural boundaries holds a particular fascination for her.
Weeds of sense anchored to heart's glinting rock
May kill off the torrents, the avalanches
Of self-conjured spectres, but my words knock
At your mind's windows, flood you like soup-steam
With earnest love for beings that never
Breathed, save in my imagination; 'til
Inked letters bound them to yours. Forever.
One face wind-scalloped like a wedding dress,
One falling thick and straight, a widow's veil
Bordered by crumbling stone, the mountains press
Flurries of emotion upon you, blind
Turn after snow-streaked blind turn. Clichés follow
Like sauces, as you snake through winding roads,
Whispering –
Hibah Shabkhez is a writer and photographer from Lahore, Pakistan. Her work has previously appeared in Arc Poetry, Meniscus, Thimble, Harpur Palate, Frogmore Papers, Potomac Review, and a number of other literary magazines. Studying life, languages, and literature from a comparative perspective across linguistic and cultural boundaries holds a particular fascination for her.
