On Respelling Poet
Saba Khaliq
I have written sweet poems
On moments I had yet to live
If the tall ancient lords of language
Ever spell poet again
Can’t they call it hope…
You
Would obviously, loudly avert
Your practical marble ebony eyes
There, away
While I scribble a poem
In my curled palm
On the singular moment we’ll smile
In each other’s ocean irises