Appeal to a Myanmar Girl

Even emptiness is obscured from view

Here in no room within which barely

Saying hello before saddled with goodbyes

Nobody really exists—that may be true—

But why does that go especially for me?

From where I muse on you in loneliness

Just another one of those infinitely reoccurring dots

Enchanted by your resplendence but

Fighting to tame your wild thusness

I’m forced to concede to what is outside myself

Being I signifies such pointless points on a vast plain.

How else to penetrate into your beauteous form—

Obstructed by the forces of stasis

Desiring only to know the long history of your ceaselessness—

Succumbed to admiration of what is eternal in you;

Sunk in innumerable folds of an abstraction.

Rhetorical poetics as bound up with the linguistic

As the symbolic is to the universality of Donne’s flea,

The Ayeyarwaddy neither comes nor goes

But rather persists in perpetual mutability.

So too by virtue of having already begun

Already we’ve commenced in separating,

Whether I stay with you or remain in flux.

Trying not to try and simply trying are the same.

If we loved, truly then, we truly loved.

For however brief a moment those who are meant to

Do. The alternative is to go on faking for eternity.

Manifesting progress in precisely conservative ways.

Tyrannically orchestrating harmony out of that

Fear of passing away which soils thusness

And creates the droning cinema we must pretend

To enjoy as the architects of appearances.