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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