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…