I dare the desert to take me

I dare the desert to take me

where my ghosts can’t follow,

but all I find are metaphors

for past lovers. If I could see them

now, I would say our story was no

accident: we swept through like flood-

waters, eroding rock walls. We trickled

like recurring phrases: want, hold,

release. Want, hold, release.

I would say our stories began

the same way: pupils dilated,

bodies pointing in the direction

of our desire. We let the water

come through, made wishes on words

like love, as if saying the word over

and over could break through stone,

make new archways. Again I am in love,

but I don’t know if I can weather

the quiet force it brings.

—Joanne Mallari