The Greek in me...

The Greek in me says, He is risen. The soul leapt out of the body and laughed. I’ve never seen you dance, but I’m told you don’t follow the path of least resistance. You left footprints in the sand first walking, then running, then arms encircling me. I love you with an everlasting love and the seashells by the seashore capture my voice. Back to Nepal, it was a summer and the child I left behind hides a smile in a photograph I buried in a suitcase. I carry it with me. You have seen through me and you know my native tongue, so may I make a suggestion? The objects in this room will not stay in this room even if Vesuvius covered our bodies with ash. I am incomplete and your hands are all I know. The wind enters my body through the open window. Silk curtains are waving as Evita sings, Do not cry for me. Throw the baggage out. Defenestration leaves me with arms crossed and your face chasing pavement.