Forceful endearment.

It’s 4 am and my body is weighed down with your arms wrapping me in what seems to be your expression of love. In my head I smoke out all the reasons that hold me into these walls of expectations. I stare at the ceiling drawing with my free hand the constellation of our past and what I thought would be our horizon. The fan keeps whispering to me. Humming alibis to set me free. And with every turn my heart sinks into mind-numbing settlement.

I offered you the sun, and you gave me a half lit candle with burning wax on my fingertips. I promised you fields of daisies and you gave me a wilted flower to smother between the pages of our favorite memory. I drew you a master piece of love, and you payed me back with apologies.
So tonight, with my feet tangled between the sheets to spare me senseless scars, I fall asleep wondering how did a love too strong to be devoured, ended up being the death of me.

إنت الحب

بتتذكري لمّا قلتيلي بهالحياة ما في شي بهمّ اذا ايدي ما كانت بايديك ع طلوع الشمس. و كيف القهوة لي تعلّمتي تعمليا بأسوأ نهار بحياتك، بتفقد المرّ، بتخسر سرّا

بتتذكري كيف شفت بعيونيك كلّ الحب و دفيت و حنّيت. انت بايديكي حسّيت بقلبي مليان. لأول مرّة كان عم بدق تيشعر، مش بس ناطر الليل يغطّ.

انت علّمتيني شو يعني يكون الشوق والوجع، الوجع الساكت اللي ضلّو معي سنين قبل ما تفوتي من الباب.

أحلى شي شفتو بالديني هو جسمك نايم حدّي، يطمّني وقتا فيق خايفة من العتمة.

أحلى صوت هو نفسك ع رقبتي عم يوشوشني “بحبك… بحبك… بحبك”.

و أحلى غنيّة رنّة ضحكتك انت و عم ترقصي بين ايديّي.

Songs for dirty lovers.

My love for you is unwavering in its strength. It abides by no law of martyrdom and voracity. I thought if you’d feed off me, you’ll garnish my soul with your touch. I wanted to ignite you but I never thought you’d grow an arsenal to burn me down.

My love for you is rooted deep into my skin. It itches to be free but knows of no place to call home. My heart looks for sheets untainted and pure. But everything I touch is left with the smell of you.

My love for you disgusts me. It brings my flaking knees to bend. I hoped I’d cleanse the misery out of your pores, but was left with undisclosed thoughts and locked lips.

I thought my love was enough

Contemporary art°

So smoke the flowers in my head into oblivion, desperately trying to turn memories into stories of pure fantasy. Tell me one more time that my bones grew thorns into your delicate skin. Draw on my back the scars of your heartbreak. Shed tears into my palms so I can turn them into a trophy and place it behind bars on a pedestal of sorts.

Darling, drain it all. Stain the sheets of our wilted petals. Fall apart on the pavement where we first realized it was all breaking into a million pieces.
And then dance.
Dance like the world owes you a lover. Dance like our love owes you empowerment. Move like your soul is made of mesmerizing ondulations.
Is that what you’re looking for?
A voice that resonates into your spine to convince you that you are ok. You are ok. You are ok.

Saudade: /saʊˈdɑːdə/

Close your eyes love, your broken wings can’t fly.
Close your eyes love, you live in a land where memories never fade.
In an imaginarium where your heart is mine and my soul is yours, we fall into the sky dreaming. Playing with nostalgia like we do with fire, the one that lies within our ribs. Dancing with the longing breathing life to our elusive song. Taking it in as we fall apart into oblivion.
Complicated feelings require reformed words, allocating shivers to fingertips and spines to snowflakes.
So gather all your courage and merge it into my lungs, because I can’t concieve of a dream where I’m not spouting flowers out of my lips and into your existence.

Salt.

There is something very poetic about the sound of the waves crashing against your skin, wrapping you in prickly sensations and thrusting you towards my reaching arms. I revolve around my own spine and untangle my legs to make room for yours… you smile, the sun reflecting off your eyes into the horizon, your shoulders a place where I want to make a home.
We swim to shore our faces to the sky, eyes wide shut to a foreign reality. Your fingers slip away. I reach the shore. And you drift away.

Sympathetic vibrations°

There’s a space between my lips and my tongue that is filled with overflowing feelings towards the curve of your smile.

I stare at you.

I listen to you.

But my cells are frantic, running around waiting for the moment they collide with yours.

In my nostalgic mind, I see your eyes lay down upon me and cradle me in your warm embrace. I see freckles on your cheeks map out the constellations and galaxies. And strands of hair fall from behind your ears to tickle my forehead endlessly…

You see there is a fire that won’t put out in my eyes when you cross the room to fall in my arms. And there are perfect moments, when I come home to you restless and uneasy, while you’re just sitting on the couch, the sun gracing your face in the most humbling way, to make me feel whole again.

So let me take those worries out of your nails, untangle your hair and whisper lullabies while you sleep. Because there is a sense of familiarity when you hold on to me, there is a sense of absolute serenity. And that’s how I know that you are my one chance at being remarkable.