On Loss (by the Khinasi poet, Tashairah)

On Loss
by the Khinasi poet, Tashairah

As a traveler tosses certain things into his rucksack--
a waterskin, a blanket, a heel of twice-baked bread--
before a long journey

So too did you take certain things--
the wings of cranes heralding spring above the dunes
the scent of spices and the sound of laughter drifting from the bazaar
the stars
and my heart, split open and glistening like red pomegranate's flesh--
when you left me

Tell me, what could fill the canyon
your absence has carved in my soul?

Shall I invite the sea to fill it,
drown the aching void in its waters?

Shall I invite the darkness to fill it,
draw its black curtain over the light of your memory,
your silhouette still shining in my mind?

Nay, I think instead I'll sit at its precipice
And listen to the wind howl
And the dust gather
And each aimless, purposeless breath I draw
Echo into its emptiness