Idolatry—Gamze Ergüven's Mustang

Soaked-through blouses. Names, their lover’s, sweet
in their mouths, like flesh lapping the water.

Another’s shoulders. Another’s.

Desire, like a river, like saints, swelling their mouths.
Some nearby river. Some nearby saint, lingering, always.

A woman, always. An intrusion to pleasure.

Displaced photograph. Wooden table. Staircase, also, wooden.
Anise. How they learn to lean their mouths, their hands, a prophecy.

Some nearby field they will bare themselves in,
where a patch of grass obstructs the light.

We will see them, all of them, through the flowers,
in the garden. Everyone dancing. Some ritual.

The lovers, their small forms, their beautifully pale faces,
disappearing, briefly, toward the shore.