Don't Say A Word Poem by meni kabir

I have come across pieces of broken hearts on my injured way to your fragile cities. Now you should not have shown me to this fashion of a wicked affair that forsakes me to despair and rips my flesh asunder every time I die into your arms.

So, here I am, again, I drag my fate to your missing feet, the stupefied half-dead drenched in time and passionately detached from life and the affairs of men. Not here and not there, poor interred thing still clinging onto distant echoes of a nameless name half way past now or then with only my sack of tears, my childhood and my nakedness loosely sheathed in a dusty cloak that carries the smell of your absence.

There, now take us to that place where I drown among murmurs of silence.

Even the moon has lost her way with words and dissolved her somber say in memories and musty scents, here, let us lose our tongue also and sway to to the rhythm of muteness alongside weightless lovers with cratered hearts and frozen eyes, the anguish in the sob of the night then will speak for our dead mouth,

we will string and unstring antiquated instruments for our song over a cup of silence, with neither gesture nor sound and lips sewed to sullenness by flowing strands amber and a salted alabaster our song then will be that grand rhapsody of the beguiled souls. Things that wound the heart with arrows of passion will remain unspoken of only we will say deeper of our mythical love without the uttering falseness of the tongue. Unfurl your petals full of violet and age and enclose us now in the softness of your quietude and let my nakedness melt into yours without a trace. Cast all that is of say into the shoreless sea of the unsaid, only let us speak the language of the heart that knows not of speech.

Let us spin words of love with yarns of muteness and listen to the night flow its black method through our ringed hearts,

we will hear everything and say nothing to no one. That we will remember anything, we will not want of something to say and still our lips will remain clamped tightly.

So say nothing. Only be with me. Say nothing of the sky edged hills that in their solemn rise and fall tell of old journeys with no history, or even say of fragrances in blooms born of those terrible glooms.

Don't say anything about stagnant mouths or about those other men with unseen faces, don't even say of this our love that knows not of said words because I can hear it all in the distant hum of stilled intervals among the silences of your heart.

Now hush, oh woman of strange passions. Like freedom you are both the gilded sting and the dry mirth of archived sorrows Sometimes ripples of dread emerge from your sigh and draw sultry waves from my loins, and I drown reaching into my prodigal self. Maybe you are made of water or petals or even distance, or even coiling things, maybe your soul is cast in shivers and nothing, perhaps it is that you descend from a lost era of the tongue-less, and your unmentioned name receded by eons, I cannot say, but it will not matter because from your pursed lips archaic words fall in shudders trapped among moonbeams and become mine, so arrest all say behind their dark ripeness and touch my heart again.

Don't say this or that other thing, don't say why the night is black or why the crickets endlessly argue over the missing key, don't even say where the spotted owl knew all her head moves, don't ask why her plumage trembles so and why there are strains of sadness in her ominous song. Cross your lips even now. Cross this your shaking lips and say all there is to say with your deep eyes, your curious and distant and big eyes that cast a telling glow in the dark as if they were two sad moons floating in a pool of their unsung song.

Come closer. Come closer and be silent and still, don't move your tender waist this way or that way, or even let it wiggle and jiggle so there is a wedge of air between the paleness of my skin and yours. Come let us dwell in this barrenness of speech and sing me to sorrow with the sad rhythm of your sigh and we will make laughter of it, let us seize this quietness of night and make it our own. Don't even tell me your name, or why you love me the way that you do only save me from wasting in commonness and too much of talk.

Don't say a word. Be quiet now, my love, be quiet like a falling pin leaf, don't speak of this place or that other place a whole universe comes to birth when I look across the ocean in your eyes, so say nothing about anything, just be with me.