Exported Dreams

by A.R. Minhas

Love is Urdu and heaven is the papyrus…
Conjure! -- It floats like naked smoke,
Epidermis cells reborn on wounds,
Perfume-flasks shattered in the depths of consciousness.

Agony in post-cards of pleasure,
As the butterflies peak through the veil
Immolate memories on the pyre of suffering
Let the serotonin fill the bowl.

Lark! The xenogamous petals twirl;
And so the betel-leaf is chewed and expectorated
The enchantress prophesizes golden henna circles...
The sweet-nothings of her curse; whispered to a merchant of dreams.

As you pick up fragments of thoughts,
Construct—like the mad-houses of Idols!
Insert galvanic energy into the palate
Recreate the divine in foreign dreams.

Let it pixelate your vision
Repeat it verbatim,
Your tinnitus will be its prison
Imagine in rapid eye movements.