My father’s hands flapped in a spiral of smoke—a weak light. What did I dream then, a child drenched in image? Sleek light,

falling honeyed rivers, purpled fruit. What did I need to imagine my body, calm in migration? I wanted to seek light.

Dawn sank into my hands like rain. I wanted to evaporate & ask God to reveal my face. I wanted to speak light

& watch the earth settle into being. Each splash of wilderness unraveled into clean, solid lines. From there I would leak light.

From there I would take flight, my body sloped & pliant in this arena of disorder. But in the dark beak of night

that light still shivered. The world with its oblique tilt. Every day I arrived & arrive. My physique light,

my mouth blazing verse. With prayer I swill inward those weeks I lie rooted. Flood my cheek, light

traveling into all skin: I am learning to find pleasure in uncertainty. Teach me your technique, light.

Wait for it to come to you, I heard once in a car. O radiant risk, I am ready. Give me your mystique, light.

Untouched by flame, my father now shakes his hair that suddenly grows to its full, shiny length—an antique light.

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What did I dream then, a child drenched in image? Sleek light,\n\nfalling honeyed rivers, purpled fruit. What did I need to imagine my body, calm in migration? I wanted to seek light.\n\nDawn sank into my hands like rain. I wanted to evaporate & ask God to reveal my face. I wanted to speak light\n\n& watch the earth settle into being. Each splash of wilderness unraveled into clean, solid lines. From there I would leak light.\n\nFrom there I would take flight, my body sloped & pliant in this arena of disorder. But in the dark beak of night\n\nthat light still shivered. The world with its oblique tilt. Every day I arrived & arrive. My physique light,\n\nmy mouth blazing verse. With prayer I swill inward those weeks I lie rooted. Flood my cheek, light\n\ntraveling into all skin: I am learning to find pleasure in uncertainty. Teach me your technique, light.\n\n_Wait for it to come to you_, I heard once in a car. O radiant risk, I am ready. Give me your mystique, light.\n\nUntouched by flame, my father now shakes his hair that suddenly grows to its full, shiny length—an antique light.","freeMarkdown","kind1EventId","kind30023EventId","dae4ecfc3f8a5dfc53bf6f6d711acd5e7d5ed60f3fc67d0a421edad877c47519","kind30023",{"_27":363,"_339":366,"_134":367,"_80":368,"_353":352,"_253":382,"_355":383},"683764663031ca5db57864ac7a68e0b8d2ded80daee4367c3fca6b5b1fd5b155c20ff0eecbfad808f995c9f128093a8f1bc8ad5a7cfd6854840c38f4aac0f535",30023,[369,372,373,376,377,379,380,381],[370,371],"r","https://news.layer3.press/articles/368b1337-2bbe-4c2f-80c9-75e4cba45df2",[40,239],[374,375],"published_at","1782057600",[44,246],[378,234],"d",[275,240],[349,350],[137,352,39],"Imperfect Ghazal on Weightless Living\nThe poem is a lyrical exploration of a child's desire for light and divine revelation, contrasting the darkness of night with the imagined brilliance of dawn. 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