I saw both of you
entwined by the wind
Moistened by the rough
tongue of desire
Your lactating breasts
together
Without breath
Like rose bushes drunk
on water’s delicacy
Like twins.
I saw both of you
lying down
On the hateful gold
of yellow flowers
Tearing apart your flesh
in furtive shadows
Skimming your
sleeping passions.
And like a tree
ashamed of its nudity
Alone, flat against
an evil sky,
I stood there like
a pitiful clown
with a ruffled heart.

– Joyce Mansour

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‘As a jealous man, I suffer four times over: because I am jealous, because I blame myself for being so, because I fear that my jealousy will wound the other, because I allow myself to be subject to a banality: I suffer from being excluded, from being aggressive, from being crazy, and from being common.’

– Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse

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