You confessed something.
I confessed everything.
Childhood dreams.
Childhood tales.
She was a tired crooner
He was an injured footballer.
He read her words
Before he coud hear her voice.
She knew his game
Before she could watch him run.
Who are you?
Who am I?
Who are they?
The smoke like a mist,
The percussion like thunder,
The stage like a funeral parlor.
Friends?
No I don’t do friends.
Date?
No I don’t date.
Marriage?
No I’m not ready.
She ran,
to return to her old songs.
He left,
to return for another chase.
Lustrous eyes
Hurried breaths,
Shivering fingers.
Love, is it love?
Not now, my love, not now.
Too late, my love, too late.
Too fast, my love, too fast.
Dainty,
Regal,,
Sensitive.
A wingless bird.
Noble,
Strong,
Gentle.
A voiceless lion.
Lips almost meeting,
Fingertips almost lingering,
Hearts almost meeting.
Frozen in time.
Did you hear her latest hit?
Slow and mellow,
Warm and glowing,
Melancholic and elated.
Did you watch his last game?
Fast and fierce,
Calm and tough,
Hopeful and despairing.
No, they didn’t see it.
Only those who have eyes see.
Only those who have light see.
Only those who have hearts see.
Hearts that have tasted pure terror.
Hearts that have tasted pure bliss.
Hearts that have tasted pure love.
Like in those rusted songs,
Like in those dusty movies,
Like in these wilted poems.
That you grew up with.
That you grew out of.
That you are growing back to.
All for an unexpected love…
The kind of love that just cannot exist;
Unless, it is blessed,
Unless it is bestowed,
Unless it is decreed,
By the One who,
Choreographs the dance of the moon and sun.
Embroiders the colors of winter and summer.
Conducts the lament of the wind and the sea.
What do they know?
What can they know?
How can they know?
He collects teary eyed,
Words from her dreams.
She sings in utter abandon
Words he thinks.
He carries like a crown,
Words she coons.
Midsummer sighs.
Midyear prayers.
Midlife rebirth,
Entwined,
Interwoven,
Interlocked,
Before they knew.
Before they hoped.
Before they existed.
Tell me,
Is this the dream we shared?
Tell me,
Is this the hope you carried?
Tell me,
Is it the fairytale He designed?
You and I.
Me and you.
Us?
Layla Ali Sultan 