Ibrahim
I look at you...at your beautiful face...
I look, and I am gripped by paralytic terror
For though I only met you this morning –
And though I should know better, oh so much better,
Already I have fallen deeper, further, faster
Than I ever believed I could fall...
Like a gape-mouthed fool I tripped over your lips
And tumbled into the inky depths of your eyes
And there I linger now, though you are already gone;
I linger, drowning and flailing, in your memory –
And in the reminiscence of our passion,
Of the love you thrust into every fibre of my being
I think of your divine body, your obsidian hair,
I think of your Arabian skin the colour of almonds –
And I die a little inside with the suffocation of my desire
Because even though I know it’s impossible,
That an angel like you could never clip his wings,
Could never condescend to be my mortal lover –
Yet still some stubborn part of me hopes and dreams
And yearns with a power that leaves me sleepless,
Sick, and suffused with a longing stronger than gravity
I want you with me again so much I cannot breathe;
Your absence leaves a gaping void between my ribs,
Crushing the air from my lungs, clamping down on my heart
I need you back with me baby, I need your skin to blanket mine,
I need to hear your voice sibilant and seductive in my ear,
But most of all I need to hold your head in my arms,
To gaze down at your exquisite eyes, and drown myself again,
Forever, in the deep dark pools of your soul…
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