Skin by A’alaa Al Majnouni

Posted on February 10, 2013 by

0


Once a lot, I pray to the time this memory shuffles,

and brings in a symphony of memories,

a love, and a skin.

And how does it feel like,

Was just a night before

a Sunday’s twilight.

When you arrived to be mine,

and I called you Lilith, my new doll

As you still all wrapped in white.

I started my first journey to unwary you,

Your tiny curved hands emerged to greet the unknown,

with your light red eyes asking me to dust your newness off,

asking me for a hold into my height.

And as they roll to face my face, blanks

I took them into my hands and made a cave of my own hands.

Made a flower inside a flower,and a flower 69 the other.

Two are humanly harmonized.

Velvet they felt,yellowish they looked,

and pale your skin colour like;

You were not sick.

You were not dead.

But your skin carries a dead skin style.

Cold, when I am warm.

And warm when I cool you off.

Your skin is the weather’s inspiration.

And me with an author’s passion.

made a lover’s secret flirtation to the heart!

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Posted in: Skin