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For Patima and Jen, On Your Wedding
by Angela Peñaredondo
“I am here to sing thee songs. In this hall
of thine. I have a corner seat.”
- Rabindranath Tagore
Love in more ways than a song can be sung, radiant bird.
These legs intertwine beneath the warm velvet of sand
and you wait for eyes to kiss, lying on an earthly mound.
Hands like a string of feathers
lay over a wound.
Glide over the constant shadows of Makalu!
Take flight from Lhotse’s peak!
Do not look back but gaze at the world beneath you.
Love in more ways.
Your voice is flung into the river. It sails downstream,
a rapturous raga and the water glistens like effervescent
diamonds from eyelids and breasts. We baptize our whole bodies
to celebrate the passing of time.
The fringes of your pomegranate sari simmer. Each step ignites
sparks of flint. Did you ever converse with a moth after its encounter
with fire? Were you able to pluck the blades of a lotus,
set it on fire just by your touch? How its sweltering embers
lull you into a quiet spell.