He had the smoothest fingers,
tone and texture, like marble,
so smooth when he caressed my skin, it felt like nothing,
and everything, all at once.
As effortless as leaves tumbling in the wind,
transferring butterflies he promised to keep safe.
Your fingertips left heated imprints on my skin,
so what do I do now, with this lingering warmth across my bare skin?

He had the softest lips that melted into mine.
When our lips met, I was left with traces of affection,
returning each kiss with willing reverence,
each nibble with an affirming gasp of pleasure.
Lips that carelessly nestled, and searched my neck for perfumed scents,
my cheeks for encouragement,
my chest for excitement,
my waist for reinforcement.
My heart almost gave out each time, but you could never tell.
Lips uttering the sweetest “can i’s“ and “may i’s”,
thoughtfully leaving me eager for what is to come.
I have thought of his lips since it first met mine.

He had the most flood-inducing gaze,
staring me down until the hinges of my pleasure jostled with caution and alarming concern,
searching for clarity in my eyes,
yet never quite grasping what I was thinking.

I am calm now,
I am free.
We are only but a memory now,
but you are not me.
You are not me,
you are not with me,
you do not belong to me,
we are not each other’s.
Yet the murmuring yearns,
in longing lub dub,
whines, and pulls,
fluttering at the scent of your skin,
the feel of your gaze,
—the emptiness of us.
My mouth was agape but the words breathed shallow, compared to the depth of what lies beneath,
lest I drown us both with the tumbling flood of my emotions.
The soil anchoring my feet was yet to feel stable to support the weight of what truly lied beneath.
So I lied,
and with these lips, I ate cake.

You are hanging on by a thread
I see you burning
I hear you crying
I try to reach out to you, touch you, comfort you
But my wrists are slapped by those who keep you in hell
Keep you wailing, in pain and suffering
Keep you in tears, sorrow and destiny buffering
Taking you out one by one
Fathers wiping the eyes of lifeless you,
Mothers, lifeless, birthing in to you the life for which will be taken in the makeshift space soon to be rained on with heavy artillery hell fire, leaving dust behind.
Dust is the way you were covered when I saw you last,
Barely recognizable, barely breathing. Just dust, your clothes, nostrils, eyelids, just dust
but you are not just dust, you are my river, my sea,
You are the soil and the fruit of the land that must be preserved
Min alma' 'iilaa alma' we call out to you to stay,
We reach out to you, please stay

I wonder how silent it must sound, the silence that comes after the storm, the silence of lifeless yous, taken away too soon, occupied and displaced in your own land. I wonder if it is quiet. I wonder if the cry’s of children afraid and alone holding tightly to the hands of their own who won’t let go, who can’t let go, who didn’t want to let go but have let go because their souls too have been displaced.

We are fighting for you, we are fighting for you, this fight, this painful fight that we must fight, the whole world should fight yet it seems like this fight is a fight against the whole world but why should it be you ask, we are only asking to be free you say.

And I reach out, I see you, we hear you we will never forget you, I can never forgot you, no one should ever forget you, ya Allah

Hollow on the fullness of my body,
I feel empty, absent, incoherent and free

To be empty is for feelings to cease to be felt
To be free is to cease to feel

I once felt out of place,
Like a flightless bird—
soon to be tumbled by the lifting winds of aeration

Time and effort wasted, pain at its peak
I don’t feel anything, it all seems so bleak

I felt something real, I thought you were true
I could pick up my pieces while you provide the glue

I made so many excuses, I was always there
Looking to cheer you up as I stripped myself bare

And then it started, the disappointments and distrust
The once known pleasure was coupled with more pain than it was worth

I tried to fight it, the nudging in my chest
I talked and talked in order to put it to rest

But then I couldn’t, so I searched for answers
I looked and scrolled and scrolled and saw it right there on the GRAMmars

I felt it sink, what I once called my heart,
I couldn’t believe that I had played this part

You showed the affection especially with your eyes
Not once, not twice but eleven times

If there’s anyone to blame, that would be me
As I let you in solely because I was lonely..

My eyes are closed and here you are, piercing through the thinness of my lids.
You warm the darkest winters and light up the coldest days of my heart.
You are transatlantic, universal,
You remind me of who I am and where I am from.

Ever-consistent in your daily rise and set.
Essential to the churning of the wheels of humanity,
Dare I call you the civic catalyst

Nevertheless, you are split,
Destined to show a side of yourself at a time
You are tendered, cautioned from exposing yourself fully to the bodies that be.
“Good” and appreciated when watered down,
“Lethal” and “unnecessary” in your entirety.

Yet you show us who we are,
Sometimes without the color—you cast us as our innate and solely that.
I hope for your own casting one day.

Click clack of train tracks.
Space.
Closing and creating.
Space.
Vision blurred by the translucency of my eyelids.
Space.
I proceed,
Blind, clawing at the warmth of the air that caresses my skin
Warmth that I want from elsewhere
Your warmth...
I must settle.

Anxiety builds.
I see nothing, hear nothing, still I proceed,
Blood pumping
Lub dub
I take a step
Lub dub
Another step
Lub dub
Hands still stretched, nothing. Silence. Space.

It’s coming.
I feel it, the initial throatiness
Converting to heat
****** heat,
Pressing into beads of fluid that trickle down my cheek

My arms follow suit, then my legs,
They become acquainted with the earth,
seeking comfort in its stability
and reveling in its tangibility

In my mind you are alive,
Playing the lead in my fantasies,
Corroding my senses with outpours of do’mine,
drenching my essence then doing it all over again.

In my mind you are alive,
casually laying claim to each vessel of my being.
Traveling,
Rooting,
Growing,
A fruitless tree you are,
Forever rooted, never sweet.

In my mind you are alive,
Able to contain as many blows sent your way,
Strong, level-headed and calm; so sure.

I am skeptical, pensive and critical; What a perfect match, no?