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My husband makes himself invisible to me.
He says I cannot see his face,
it is forbidden.
Alone in the palace, I scent my hair with rose petals.
Singing to myself, I watch the birds
fly in their bars.
It was exciting at first, not knowing.
Strange flesh against my flesh and a desire
that went beyond the seen.
For that is marriage—an agreement to follow love
into blindness, to allow the hidden god
or monster to stay veiled.
So many nights he stays away.
I cradle the cup of my aloneness
so it will not spill.
Our moments of contact sustain me, bodies
pressed so close we have one skin,
each pore an eye, open.
The voices of my sisters twitter and poke.
If he were beautiful, why hide?
What beast may swell from his seed?
I am too human. Need grows inside me
like the child I both crave and fear:
the need to see, to be seen.
For now, I accept the contract.
I love him in ignorance,
wait patiently, obey.
Lucky nights he returns with the moon
and creeps into bed.
We touch in the dark.
But I know what will come.
I will wound him with light and he will fly from me in anger
carrying my heart.