Every night, in our dreams, we make a space
for us, somewhere no one else can find.
This evening, we arrange a rendez-vous in Gizeh,
where time is an eternity—a sparkle that blinds,
slicing lips in prismatic laughter, we can forget
future anxieties far too many to mention.
In this world, the sun evaporates distance
and umbra sears where we touch. We make
our love a heritage site, sheltered in sleep.
Tending to the wearing of memories, the edges
we repair not to replace: our happier days,
days yet to be, and days that never come;
ruins too were once alive.
Yet when all artifacts spell out yesterdays
as if to expose some fragile truth, the past
becomes our fantasy. The future forgets its rhythm
and you and I, build castles under the pyramid’s veil.
Holding hands, to the heavens we shout,
Here, our best selves, they live again!
Vanessa McCuaig is a Tiohti:áke/Montréal-based technical writer and anthropologist. As a biracial woman, her poetry draws on her white-passing experiences in Canadian settler society. Vanessa is also an in-house writer and editor-in-chief for Short Ends, an online cinema publication.
