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Ma'ariv over Granada

The setting sun of Andaluz wipes tears off a face like it does light from olive tree tops

and coats tiled old-city techos in bluish-black


My words swim in air thick with ecstacy and anguish


In the sheer gravity of pecho-prayer pined-for, prayer centuries silenced, prayer echoed eternal:


the sun is pulled to its momentary cushion of stars.


and her eyes close in scarf-soft peace

as her lips lace incantation in the wind


song

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