The Nalin Clog Carpenter, by Karen Downs-Barton

Hewn from sandalwood logs, balsam-scented,
your stately hammam slippers form letter
Kha’s; tack sighs beneath the sole of fettered
feet. Curved prows cleave deliquescent sudded

spume of captive dreams sloughed on salted wash-
tides as you navigate marbled oceans.
Carved aromatic woods, warm to the touch,
fashion decks like outstretched palms incised with

tendril poems in calligraphic script
imprints temporary tattoos between us.
My rewards are thoughts of pliant skin pressed
in hidden caresses, sweat bathed, silvered

with estuaries under silk pestemal
worn as you perform bathing rituals.