When you look at me
I become the most pure
When you smile at me
I become the sibling of moon
When you walk beside me
Cherubs flirt with my hair
When you inhale me
I become the smell of divinity.
You paint my lips with the brush of your lips
The hue of pale heaven
The trail of your thumb on my breasts
The trail from here to Mecca
Your knees swallowed in the clefts of my thighs
What is it if not paradise?
That day dicing with words
I played a poem for you
Tonight your eyes dice with mine
I become the poetry itself.
This becoming of me
This undoing of you
Is neither you nor me
This is you-becoming-in-me.
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