Inside the Flower Room

Come Inside

Pilgrim, sit beside me,

in this uncluttered pail,
I shall serve you

my grief as food
& eyes’ salty water

as wine. Be ready
like fingers inside a

hollow pocket;
you’ll know the inside

of my body,
the sidewalk

everyone tramps,
a lock that welcomes

many keys. Come, pilgrim,
enter the firehose. Know

sometimes keys
do not listen,

just as these keys, my body,
understands. Blunt

or sharp, the teeth
unfasten me;

a bone-faced clock,
a wax with no candle-

thread to burn.

Saddiq Dzukogi