Inverted

Inverted in real life

all fantasies: the whir of

the fan signals the depth

of the empty afternoon.

Only sleep. Sweet tender sleep

causes a lull in the house, a chalice  

full of summer heat

of pan fried eggs and potatoes.

Inverted, all fantasies

of loving and beloved,

Of Astrophil and Stella,

Beatrice and Dante,

that little Heer and that mighty

but helpless Ranjha, that Arjumand and his

Taj Mahal erecting husband.

Inverted all love: three-fourths

submerged like an iceberg in water

existing only in the heart

that flutters at the desk or in a pub

or a hospital

silently beating down time

existing without words

or voice or even a tremor

of the wind.