Semicolons
--Zubair Ahmed 

Forgive me.
I say to the wall.
My life is paper.
My jaws rust. 

Wanderer: singing.
The sky is my home.
I throw roses into it
to color it red. 

Stop: these roads
grow from me.
My journey must end
because my destinations
have ended. 

Kneeling like a priest,
seeing the spherical eyes
of flies, my wish:
emptiness and sudden light. 

Resurrection: I am dead
from it—the attempt to live
again. 

It sings as me when I sleep:
the world dressed in yellow.
Never have songs
meant for me what they do
when you sing. 

I leave you: haloes and clothes.
I leave you violently.
Like the wail of an exile. 

Forget me: my truth.
My masterpiece is
my nonexistence. 

Sunrise: unbreakable dawn.
I open your book.
It has no pages.