Abhorring the silence in a wooden space, she grew a smile that bleeds a silent memory. Silence initiates a limitless nostalgia of streets. she did not want to talk about this, that evening, where blooming headaches were swallowed in a small head . Two more bombs and the lines will widen to contain the non -embraceable.
A short mood for a special wine, intoxicated with his smile, aroma, hasty hasty steps, silent breath, long jaw, colorful accent, and hairy chest.
There, She missed her reality with 'he'.
-not you, I have treated you as a 'wife'.
as a wife????!
-When we danced naked on a valley that was humming our pain and realities out so loud but slow slow slow..
Not in his dark eyes, she found home.. home with its full streets, the pleasures of being downtown where they come and go -silly and sophisticated, cheaply filled or brand new perfumes.. She never smelled him,, he was afraid to be smelled that close..
-Fill me in your throat, a rhythm (who) will never leave when you grow to be a boring person who keeps repeating stories about his 'lost home' and stolen identity.
The day when he has an accent, today , she tightens her hope..tearing is pain to pieces with an incessant lust.
a whisper collided with her tense mood, articulating how empty avenues and bodies in here can be ..in the world.. it frightens her, it frightens merely to imagine that he never existed... GOSH!!
How would it be not to have her heart alarm controlled by his sharp smile, his sudden stance in veins that run in front of his sorrows..
-Leave passion and be realistic يا خانوم.
How sarcastic to tell this to herself when years ago she had the pain to realize that every reality is a vague state of being..a moment that maneuvers the flow of the self in a mundane beat.
Why faced by a cold milk when a mother's milk is all what she wants this afternoon...?
Heads buried in tables' coffins, chins claiming strength of soul and chants of care.. care care,, keep repeating this word till tomorrow,, till you lose it with your shallow pride.
it goes in emptiness
emptiness that seems fulfilling to their stomachy heads of eyes..
a green paper is all what she sees on that colleagues' table,
papers of colorful clips that do not click her silent head..
How to be awake when all but you ,,
when all and you
Want to relax on a sofa that spreads a peanutbutter taste of crispy soap-overseas and "sex and city" intrigues?
How can you surrender yourself to moments of blindness to hours of solitude and gloom
when evenings wind to a stranger's bed time. erasing the memory of mercury
and scenting her skin again
with a return-smile.
(...one of those evenings ) m.sh
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