Cadence Chooses Me

Cadence chooses me, it chokes on me I am the violin's regurgitant flow, and not its player I am in the presence of memory The echo of things pronounces through me then I pronounce… Whenever I listen to the stone I hear the cooing of a white pigeon gasp in me: My brother! I am your little sister, so I cry in her name the tears of speech And whenever I see the zanzalakht trunk on the way to the clouds, I hear a mother's heart palpitate in me: I am a divorced woman, so I curse in her name the cicada darkness And whenever I see a woman on a moon I see love a devil glaring at me: I am still here but you won't return as you were when I left you you won't return, and I won't return Then cadence completes its cycle and chokes on me…