When day gives its way to night,
And guards burn petrol fires,
The thoughts of the days gone by
Awake within me through a darkened corridor.

A disconcerting face looks up beyond my screen,
Worn down by loneliness and pale blue light.
From my desperate Skype call,
I stare vacantly at her,
Feeling low,
On trail, against a wall.
No mountain ridge, no ocean shore could unite us—
But how can I surrender now?

Just as a clam closes its shell,
Something in the heart had closed up for a moment.
An evil thought had scampered like a sea loose
Across a border and its defender.

Those who cross a garden bridge,
From shadow into light,
May seem to change faces.
Our struggle will be pure without blemish,
Like the white lily—or maybe it's inconvenient.

Brother and sister,
A mother and father—
Don't mix the blood.
The royal blood is pure, like
The Nile; the bloodline flows through you,
From mother to daughter.

The lord of the two lands,
The high priest
Of every temple,
Of every city in this land,
Since King Osiris and Isis—
A brother and sister.

Half-sister, cousin, wife,
A succession of stillborn children.
Our blood does not mix;
My bloodline ends here,
Now with you—
Half-sister, cousin, wife.