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.
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