Skip to main content

Naked

Your naked gaze, leaves its mark of my body,  Every time you smile at me,  a scar is driven across my heart,   striping me down to shame, praying,  that you peel the rest away,  slowly shredding the last walls of dignity

In the motel rooms of my mind,  stinking of cheap Cologne and discarded discharges,  I go from room to room like a Mad harlequin looking for dead jester,  searching for signs of you, so your memory could ravage me

My pain,  you once said,  was bioluminescent,  it made my scars glow in the dark but you would never know,  even as I stood naked in front of you,  my soul was nothing but cigarette ash

There is a bridge of sadness over the river of sorrow,  from whose ledges lovers jump into a fiery sun, by whose shadows you used to undress me,  marvelling at the falling men and women, a shower of dead stars

I now stand alone,  stark naked,  with nothing to show but the bankruptcy of love shorn madness,  begging for you to come back,  just so your memory could ravage me

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Indigo Halls of Imagined Gods

In the indigo halls of Imagined Gods of Love, Lovers leave half burnt letters of incense and trails of broken hearts - Among ruins of shattered Love knots, she sits alone Weaving a rosary out of Thin air With longing as its thread and Beads made out of tears -- In the Indigo halls of Imagined gods of Love, The walls conspire and whisper Into her ears Telling tales of unfaithful loves And unrequited desires -- The rags of threads once Tied at the Astans of Hamdan, Lie at her feet, as she sits alone Knitting desolation from the whispers To sacrifice at the altars of the imagined Gods of love 

Zulaikha’s Lament

Blotted and Stained Like blood on apples, My reputation remains in tatters After these years But what was a woman to do? -- He had the face of An angel His shoulders, A sculptors dream His eyes, spoke a million languages his lips, like daggers driven apart -- I grew outside of Cairo Unloving father and sad mother Sold me for a goat and   A bag of gold To the first merchant who They came across -- My Husband, Kind, Generous man Made me his wife And put me along with Thirteen others -- My Husband, Kind Generous man Kept me happy Visited me twice a month Blessing me with His drunken kisses and Impotent rage -- I was never sad What more could A woman want? Lots of wealth and An impotent husband Sex was a chore The price of being so glad -- Then he came Chained and covered with dust Another man from the Slave traders den He stood at the gate Neither sad nor in jest Even at a distance...

The Empty Apartment

I draw a deep breath, An empty chair sits in the corner Hastily scribbled notes scattered Around the desk, abandoned Like lilacs in battle filed Wandering eyes rest among the Clumped clothes, a black sequined Scarf pokes pathetically from Among the ruins of our lives, Staring at me, accusing me A half-eaten apple still Sits on the top the fridge, next To the owl totems from the time We visited the dead shaman, You used believe in -- The movers are here, Walking up the narrow stairs Stomping feet leaving shoe marks, You so hate, across the Floor, Our floor The empty boxes laid in front of me Forcing decisions I never wanted To make, what to keep and what To ditch, how much luggage to leave For the insidious new occupants -- Tz