Stitching with Smoke
By Reema Baniabbasi
Tobacco:
Creator breath
now exhaled
into slow...decay.
Incense cleansing
away evil eye
now clogging
black lungs.
Temple smoke
transcending prayer
now descends
into smokescreen.
The child me
chases smoke threads
trying to sew
together these contradictions
but they slip through
orbiting hollowed light bulbs above.
What can I do from down here
but smile in awe
as I dervish
around the emptiness
I so fear?
What else can I do
but sit and let my thoughts
do the spinning?
Is the smoke
drifting life away
or just emptying toward
a perfumed hospitality?
Will I ever know?
“It was inspired by a mix of things: hearing a client share what smoking means to her, the way tobacco and incense are used in different cultures, my childhood memory of watching my grandmother burn incense, and existentialism.”
