Durga

it’s enough to have got
this far, truant from the dust.
the sea’s uneven
gravity, the way the horizon
wraps me in its orange sail.
I am misunderstanding Itself
but the sun shines through
my thin ribs.
it’s the light that blinds them
and I’m not responsible for that.
I long since stopped wearing
the shirts they made for me;
no offense to the Monkey King
but my path is different
when I bow my whole body
dissolves. I’ve died on
the floor and will again.
when the sea takes me at
last no one will notice.
the sand will never stop.
someday her hand will arrive
reckless and green and I’ll be gone.
I am not a servant, I’m her beloved
don’t talk foolishly to me
as if there is no difference.