What can we say of our last words?
I think they live in memory
To bind the ruins of the self
Till ruin lives it’s infancy.
Tag: ramadan
16
I told her “My dream awaits
Beyond the olive groves,
It hides in the warmth
Of a figs sugary folds.”
I told her “My childhood,
Nestled in your jasmine vines,
Swings in whispering scents
That powder your neck in thyme.”
I told her “My heart lives
In Palestine’s street,
In your life visit again
So I can feel my heart beat.”
Day 10
I’d often think that fireflies
Would drink beyond their means,
Stuttering aloft this canopy
Spilling sips of revelry.
Day 8
In the solitude
Of our temples heart,
We wrote our names
Into the wind,
A written music
For those with wings.
The perched prayers
Flutter…begin.
Day 6
In the company of friends,
We forget what life amends.
And if it where still the same,
Will we know what remained.
The Second Day
The sky is my wound,
And you… my womb.
If ever was a lovers nest,
Let us in the sky take rest.
First Day
The charm of a sun,
Those golden rays.
A wild grass undone,
Golden, reaches…sways.
ahorsealone 
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