Al Qabri Ramos

 

Sacred mnemonic

Memory has something 

to do with it 

of the sacred 

that is preserved 

Like the writing in stone

Similar to cave figure

the name 

like tornado and waltz,

Like molten iron, 

on my red-hot skin, 

there are brief possibilities 

to alter our register,

Holds the fire of the divine

Like a torch shining

What forgot me and stayed

behind, passed over at dawn;

In my destiny, your figure,

Like a soap bubble

suspended like a spaceship, 

a waltz in the abyss,

Like a closed secret

Inside the burning chest

That time has been tearing

layered, like onions

The ritual of writing 

that name of yours 

on paper and breaking it 

into a thousand pieces, 

pieces of uncertain letters 

and looking at the paper 

intact, again, 

between my fingers 

and the magic of life 

shows me what 

I stubbornly do not see,

I don't let go because 

that's not the will of the source

I am a priestess 

and you, Lancelot,

that as much as I want 

to please you, 

suffering your distance, 

asking for my desistance, 

this is not the order of divinity,

The conversion of my burden 

and pain has only one guideline,

Thou of my world Emperor,

And I, your empress