One night a man was crying,

“Allah, Allah!”

His lips grew sweet with the praising,

until a cynic said,

“So! I have heard you

calling out, but have you ever

gotten any response?”

The man had no answer for that.

He quit praying and fell into a confused sleep.

He dreamed he saw Khidr, the guide of souls,

in a thick, green foliage,

“Why did you stop praising?”

“Because I’ve never heard anything back.”

“This longing you express

is the return message.”

The grief you cry out from

draws you toward union.

Your pure sadness that wants help

is the secret cup.

Listen to the moan of a dog for its master.

That whining is the connection.

There are love dogs no one knows the names of.

Give your life to be one of them.

                         to Quelyn

When I hang out

With someone I love,

I find myself

Absorbing

A bit of who she is.

I find I notice

And want to chase

Squirrels.

I want to howl

At sirens.

I notice scents.

Well,

I already notice scents

As I deal with

Disabling fatigue

As the result of

Petro chemically based scent.

Would my struggles with those

Who choose to wear scent

Be more easily resolved

If I bowed slightly

And started,

Inviting being chased

Or chasing?

Or if I sniffed their rear

While letting them sniff mine?

Would they understand

If I growled?

When I encounter

Someone, who is safe,

Someone, who is scent free,

Would my vestigial tail

Wag?

Would we mouth

Each other’s bodies

And roll over

And under one another?

Have I...

Will I

Catcht her joy?

I hope I am

Contagious!