at dusk, communion with cairo

at dusk the kites rise
billowing in the air
coloring the sky
circling over the city of the dead
like the skirts of a whirling dervish
circle over a stationary floor
red yellow green blue

your air smells of smog
of fried eggplant
of white tuberose
strung on silk thread and
worn around my neck
your datepalms are
pregnant with secrets
(my secrets and yours)
and life-bearing fruit
they tower over you
and over your glorious sand
your glorious dust
your glorious mud
and over your tent-covered market
offering cardamom seed
and hibiscus blossom
and over your ancient temples
where the air lays upon the ruins
like painted glass upon the horizon
and over your ancient river
the father of rivers
as it glows and flows
emerald and elegant
while boats ride it into
the expectant sky of you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

the people amble in the streets
and over your bridge of dreams
their long shadows stretching
graying your sidewalks
and the stiff air does not move
to let them pass
to let them breathe
light slivers slowly
threatening to fall
while grains of dust
sporadically speckle the air
and i hold my breath
not for lack of need to breathe
but for worship of you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

a child touches my hand
and tugs
and pulls
his toffee eyes look into mine
upturned and dreamy
the saddest eyes i've ever seen
(his or mine)
eyes that have seen
too much too soon
and he smiles
and he wraps
his little fingers in mine
and he says
bahebbik ya amar
while the perfume vendor
sings to me of amber
sings to me of rose
sings to me of musk
and other aromatic aphrodisiacs
that promise sensual satisfactions
and i blink
in the dust
in the dusk
in the purple splendor of you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

in your glamorous palaces of old
the exiled deceased sleep and dream
while in your shattered graveyards of new
in those squatted mausoleums of broken bones
the trampled living dwell amongst the dead
and offer me tea prepared on a primus stove
and we sit and sip in silence and listen to you
come alive
between your saffron sunset
and your mercury moon
come alive
between crypted cenotaph
and stolen solitude
we sit and sip in silence and listen to you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

and the pigeons flock
and the pigeons preen
and the pigeons coo
and the pigeons draw circles
and the pigeons paint silhouettes
upon your sky
and the pigeons chant
in tongues unknown
bestowing their blessings
upon me
upon you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

and the minarets hum to one another
in the lavender haze of a day gone by
one more day in your life
my most beautiful cairo
my most victorious one
one more day in your life
that will endure forever
or if not forever
then at least until i die
and am buried beneath
the eternal dust of you
my beautiful cairo
my victorious one

my womb
my mother
my shelter
my tomb


(Ar.) bahebbik ya amar: I love you, gorgeous.