Swinging you
my arms your hammock
I feel an arm drop limply
with surrender against my side.
Sleep is your ocean
muffling sounds as though
through deep tranquil swells;
water, your oxygen.
I am the boat that carried
you here, but I could never be
the captain.
Milk lies drying on your lips
like salt, returning from
a seaborne dream of sailing
on the backs of blue marlins
speaking whale
befriending the surf.
I first saw you through the water.
Now you are pulling me under
to sing for the coral
and pirouette for rays.
Dissolve this me-ness in
rollicking tides and
scrub me clean of
victory self-ascribed and
drown my fear
of the lover’s death:
What is there but the water?
So beautiful, mashaAllah.
Woah those last few lines were awesome ! Right on Medina ! See you soon!