The soft touch of your lips
Every morning I wake up
You put a smile on my face
Every day I feel I'm new

To you

We changed the pace of fun
Kept moving like we're children
Dozed off on the sofa, cuddling
Skin to skin under the sheets

"It's eight thirty," she says,
Her feet crossed and hair falling out of a braid
A French eight thirty means glittering lights
On the Eiffel Tower,
Street venders selling champagne,
Couples on the street corner,
Wishing you were here

As far away as I am,
I only want him to feel definite.
So until the moments in between time blend into the crashing tide of eternity,
I'll be there -
Scratching love notes into his back on lazy Sundays

He's an ocean.
He gathers my worried thoughts and tosses them to the breeze;
He carries me through bumpy waves and tempest seas.
When he's near, my insides throw themselves against my skin,
Just to be closer to him,
Just to be closer to him.
And none of it is tragic,
Because when I'm with him my heart beats steady in my chest,
And none of it is sin,
For when my organs need rest,
He lulls me to sleep again.

eyes speaks much ....

you will feel my love more...
more than i can say ...
more than my pen can write...
just wait sweet angel mine...
wait our meeting soon ....
to look into each other's eyes...
to feel how much i love you ...
how much i'm missing you ...
and how much i need you ...
eyes speak much more ...
than words can say ...
yes sweetheart mine...
just wait to see my eyes...
and to realize it's words...
yes sweet darling...
eye can speak much more ...
as the heart beats through eyes...

sweetheart...
look deeply into my eyes...
to tell you about my love...

love you ...
and wishing you a wonderful sweet day ...
my sweet secret love ....
the most sweet secret i got ...

yours,...
hazem  al....

The words seem to light up in my brain,
Highlighted neon signs
In dense yellows and electric greens,
A million ways to say the things that roam
From place to place inside the galaxies in me

The bright lights talk about the way you move,
The things I dream of you when I'm asleep,
How you call me by my middle name,
How you're always fiddling with a deck of cards because you need something to keep you from your nerves.
How I wait for days to pass until the time when my hands replace the cards,
And our ten digits make the difference
Fifty two cards used to,
And how soon, you'll hold my hand when you're nervous,
You'll hold my hand

You say "even in this world"
As if you've tried another
As if you've lived in one
As if you've embraced another arms

You, my darling, has been
And always will be
The center interest of my life
Even in this world.

Clink, clink, clanky clink,
she can feel her ornaments cling,
with one another - with her flesh,
she is tired, she is famished,
the stink of her sweat, all fresh, on her skin,
clink, clink, clanky, clink,
the bed creaks as her thoughts cling,
with one another, to her mother, brother, father,
to her childhood, to her friends, to her favorite cake,
to a piece of bread, that she hasn’t had, since the evening-
and overall - her stink!
Clink, clink, clanky, clink - the pace fastens,
who is the man within-
filling her up, taking her by force,
and yet she is abiding by - him?
Think, think, thap-thap -what was she thinking?
The thought is gone, he is not looking at her,
she is not looking at him - and yet he is ****** her,
and she is aiding him - clink. Clink.
Why couldn’t she marry the one, who filled her womb,
who accepted her, whom she desired too?
Caste, religion, tradition,
father, mother, that ******* brother,
all thought they were marrying her off-
To a stranger? Well, this tradition is prostitution.
He doesn’t even know how to pronounce her name,
and yet he is ******* her - how naive, how naive?
And soon he will be done,
and soon he will roll over and lie,
close his eyes - Die, she wants him to ******* die.
And she shall lie there in a pool of dreams,
with the clink, clink, clanky, clink,
echoing even in her sleep,
and her soul is lost, somewhere amidst,
this unfamiliar stink!