I'm Not Saying This Right

You bind me, and I tear away in a rage to open out

into air, a round brightness, a candlepoint,

all reason, all love.

This confusing joy, your doing,

this hangover, your tender thorn.

You turn to look, I turn.

I'm not saying this right.

I am a jailed crazy who ties up spirit-women.

I am Solomon.

What goes come back. Come back.

We never left each other.

A disbeliever hides his disbelief,

but I will say his secret.

More and more awake, getting up at night,

spinning and falling with love for Shams.