“just you and / your body running off each undesired desired encounter”

«ما كان ضرّك لو حنَوْت

"During the morning chores, you look forward with love…During the evening ones, you look back with nostalgia."

The silvery tears of April? Youth of May? Or June that breathes out life for butterflies?

No dreaming can compare with reality, for reality itself is a dream from which but a portion of mankind have yet waked and part of us is a not familiar peninsula

“But how was I to begin letting it go when anger was the force that gave me momentum? My anger was my power. It was what protected me. Without it, wouldn’t I be sad and naked?”

“The sigh is the pathway to breath; it allows breathing. That’s just self-preservation. No one fabricates that. You sit down, you sigh. You stand up, you sigh. The sighing is a worrying exhale of an ache.”