I would have wrapped you in a prose Poem that lacks precision and laid you to sleep Under the covers of my bed. Quietly.
So if love was to engulf me And a longing rises from my soul I would stretch the fingers of my hand towards you and dabble with the words of the poem, Letter by letter.
If I was truly a poet I would have limped to the Lord by now And sat by the foot of his throne And held on to it With both hands And whispered: ‘you are the Greatest, most Beautiful, most Wonderful and Capable, Will you create a lover for me?’
I mean only for me.
But I know That my prayer will not be answered Not because it is impossible. More than that really, Since I have never known A man Who has never betrayed his lover. ******* Translated by Dikra Ridha