anum kara: a poem for kate

Anum Cara

If our two hearts were to become jealous of a mad world,
then neither would discover the truth
of the other,
nor apart become wholesome,
nor together, sane.
My heart would become lesser without yours.

Then could we breathe the warm breath
of desire
without smothering within the salty smoke
of narcissism
nor choking within the hard ashes
of nihilism.
Could we become exhilarated by such lie
soft-spoken to us, as to billions?
Could we alone stand aghast
in front of that great wall?

Only now can we remove this yoke of time,
wrench ourselves free and run unencumbered
across the flowered fields.
Only now can our hearts run wild.
Our silly, beating hearts—