On the back window of the bus
a girl is writing on her breath
the disappearing message,
YES.
It takes no more than a breath
to blow the glass
out of a window-frame.
The sky screams in.
Birds like brooches on its chest,
it breaks
on the raised stick of the lunatic.
The desert turns
electric. Majnun, driven mad
with love, is blinded,
saying Laila’s name.
The lightning offers advice.
Here, take this stick and write,
and he is writing, writing in the sand.