May 09, 2008

Nirwan Dewanto (2)


From the other side of darkness
patiently you wait for me.
Listen to me
I must utter the incantations of a thousand holy books
before I take you on
so that I can take hold of clarity
enough cleanse your scorched and burning body
and vacancy enough
to bargain with the echo of your roar.
Page by page
each of my claws will be sharpened
by the bloody footsteps of our forebearers.
On the cover of each volume
I will engrave the image of your face
savage as the race of blind lovers.
Then when my space has grown more open
you will inch closer
No, you will not be brave enough to touch me
you are merely restless passion
at the moment I open my shirt
though your fangs glisten and sparkle
you haven’t the guts to wrestle with me.
Look closely at this trembling body
this body that has not yet completed its incantations
this body thirsty for all the pathways of the world.
Your steps are as light as the tick of a clock
so that now your chasms encircle my peaks.
My cough is high-pitched, like the typhoon of night
may it always bring your fear.
No, I feel that it is always I who approach you
offering myself as bait
because I fear to make you my prey.

Believe me when I say that only you know
whether I am male or female
whether I lust for you, or seek revenge.
When your blood drips on my body
I will know I have wounded you, torn you to shreds.
And in an expanse of mirror
I will no longer be able to see your countenance
for at that moment my lust will be perfect.
Then listen as my steps fade into the distance
light as the tick of a clock.
Then listen to the typhoon of night
as I gaze at you from a corner hidden in the distance
as you sharpen your claws
as you make your body virgin once again
as my mother becomes yours
as you steal light from my body
as I steal darkness from your holy books.