We can't take a thing on our tumbling rabbit hole trip into the opulence of recompense
Even our book of deeds exists there before a warm breeze lifts on that great day of winnowing
Yet you lie like Moses in a willow basket in the depths of the earth in that dress that made you look slimmer
Your nails are the blood of the Nile during that failed first plague and your eyeliner sits like Pharaoh's kohl
Nothing matters but what is written and the grace of the all graceful
yet a constellation of young stars
sit on your ring finger
and above your heart the name of Allah glows yellow from a pendant like the oil lamp of a lighthouse
May 29, 2017
May 29, 2017 at 4:05 AM UTC
We can't take a thing on our tumbling rabbit hole trip into the opulence of recompense
Even our book of deeds exists there before a warm breeze lifts on that great day of winnowing
Yet you lie like Moses in a willow basket in the depths of the earth in that dress that made you look slimmer
Your nails are the blood of the Nile during that failed first plague and your eyeliner sits like Pharaoh's kohl
Nothing matters but what is written and the grace of the all graceful
yet a constellation of young stars
sit on your ring finger
and above your heart the name of Allah glows yellow from a pendant like the oil lamp of a lighthouse
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