BARAKAT

The dead sway between the breasts of nothingness.
The river flows—
life bursts in every drop.
No one here takes it too seriously:
death is a rumor,
life is real—
or at least trying to be.

And on this other shore,
there is no division—
all breasts converge into one nipple,
a single source.
It is not a joke,
yet it hums
with endless humor.

Barakat