By Seth Jani
The body will disappear along with
the amplitudes of desire, the dark cravings.
But not the softness, the low pink hum,
the radial hue of love. Like excess dust
which the silent crafter of stars smears across worlds,
it lights the undersides with a secret nimbus.
We might forget everything said or argued,
every war we believed was crucial,
but not this, unspoken truth of being.
It will shine in the dying brain as our only purpose.
It will carry us across abysses.
It will lead us home when the night is deepest
and the directions have been lost.
Seth Jani lives in Seattle, WA and is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com). Their work has appeared in The American Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, Rust+Moth, Pretty Owl Poetry and Psaltery & Lyre, among others. Their full-length collection, Night Fable, was published by FutureCycle Press in 2018. Visit them at www.sethjani.com.