In Her Absence I Created Her Image

In her absence I created her image: out of the earthly the hidden heavenly commences. I am here weighing the expanse with the Jahili odes ... and absence is the guide, it is the guide. For each rhyme a tent is pitched. And for each thing blowing in the wind a rhyme. Absence teaches me its lesson: If it weren't for the mirage you wouldn't have been steadfast ... Then in the emptiness, I disassembled a letter from one of the ancient alphabets, and I leaned on absence. So who am I after the visitation? A bird, or a passerby amid the symbols and the memory vendors? As if I were an antique piece, as if I were a ghost sneaking in from Yabous, telling myself: Let's go to the seven hills. Then I placed my mask on a stone, and walked as the sleepless walk, led by my dream. And from one moon to another I leapt. There is enough of unconsciousness to liberate things from their history. And there is enough of history to liberate unconsciousness from its ascension. Take me to our early years—my first girlfriend says. Leave the windows open for the house sparrow to enter your dream—I say ... then I awaken, and no city is in the city. No "here" except "there." And no there but here. If it weren't for the mirage I wouldn't have walked to the seven hills ... if it weren't for the mirage!