Authors: Cathy Ostlere
Maybe yes. Maybe no. Perhaps one day
you will know the truth. When your memory rises out of the desert like a buried city.
But if it does, Akbar? I don't expect to live there.
Of course you don't. But remember that you and I are more alike than you know.
Longing
Miraj.
I close my eyes and imagine he's with me. Holding my face in slender hands. Lips soft and darkâa cinnamon bloom. A poet's words fall from his mouth into mine: I desire my beloved only / And there is no other wish in my heart. I touch the memory of his arm. From wrist to shoulder. Coffee skin. Thin and close to the bone.
My lover's name is Miraj.
We find each other in the darkness. Our longing is our guide out of innocence. Tongues too. We are awkward but tender in our shyness. Do we hesitate? Hold back? Perhaps only to take a breath. For our desire is like a sea. Wave upon wave. Until our souls lay bare and exposed upon a far-off shore and our grief is eased.
The young are told to wait for emotions to catch up to the flesh but what if the moment is now? Our yearnings ready to set us free from sorrow and fear?
And besides, who will show the world the possibility of love, if it isn't us?
The End
Many many thanks
for support
Alberta foundation For the Arts
Canada Council for the Arts
for strength
Rand
for joy
Victoria, David, Tegan, Leda, Mark
for reading
Charlotte Gill
Sue Hill
Victor Ramraj
Paulina Redfern
for guidance
Nadeem Parmar
for wisdom
John Pearce
for enthusiasm
Caitlin Drake
Jennifer Notman
for vision
Razorbill/Penguin Group (USA)
Puffin Canada/Penguin Group (Canada)
for stewardship
Gillian Levinson
for believing
Jessica Rothenberg
for inspiration
the people of India