VEIL

Nathaniel Pekari / POETRY

Touched by my breath,

Your veil

Ripples silkily.

A curtain moved the same way once

When at my brazen play I romped;

I brushed the border that divided East

From West. From whence a scent

Was wafted as on wind or waves.

It was alike to sweat, but strange,

And spumed in dulcet unction.

Then shadows rose upon the screen,

Their figures cast in sharp relief,

But dwindled, fading soon away,

Like elves at dusk are seen to dance

‘Till round themselves as raiment cast

The night.

And then I was halloed

And sprang away. The curtain

No longer played its Siren song

But did appall...

Ah, no! Ah, no! It is not black,

I know it to be white.

But of what sort? Of virtue bright, or else

Of pallor cold?

I saw such white in fluttering shapes

As gloaming spawned a mutant world

And things that were friends’ faces once

Ghosts, haunts, and spectres did consume.

But there you are, and your face

Is firmly real and I am still

Enamoured by it.

And there you are,

No longer veiled,

Even by the dark.

And here you are, and I am still,

Paralyzed by wonder;

Pull the white sheet over us.