Amid Dust And Salt Poem by Eila Mahima Jaipaul

could I but touch you
as a thing in itself
separate from everything
ever touched or seen
separate
from everything you’ve held or felt
I’d take you to Elysium
where, in beds of mandolins, under violet-orange sky
your living would finally be where it should


In time
wooden boats
some draped in rosemary
coriander, lavender
some bare
would bring all my pieces
and there, amid dust and salt
in long red shadows
I’d let you reconstruct me
from bark and herb
until with tears of delicate compassion
I’ll resurrect
dancing naked deep inside you