Despatches from Kasbah Tammdakht

so pry the touchables. sift the shadows of your feelings. suck the sound of kissing sands. hear silence. still voices of Babel. your visions are sound-storms in the voids of divides. above seas. below mountains. across deserts. Maghreb. Sahel. Savannah. Forest. Vast waters. entangle your contradictions. where journeys intersect, shift. sift your sands of attachments. fire your Pentecost of tongues from all con- tours. then dance. tremble between corrugated plains. wait. wait for the drumbeat of still small voices. those whispers from medinas of ideas along caravan circles. there shall be no naming rituals on these routes of roots.