it's not about time
Spicy nights(you ate too much red chili) waiting, draining seconds through a sieve stoned, like truth hits me young and ancient drenched and dried out trying to imagine a way out together forever shall I tattoo it? ink tying the knot maybe it is time to turn nutwork into knotwork or dotwork aborigonal art or a rope bridge am I still young enough to cross it in lingerie? am I still young enough to die every day? and how long can the process take to arrive in one's own life? and a fraction of every new second to fall in love with an Arab.