Of long nights.

They spoke of a night well spent,
Gazing at endless possibilities of tomorrow.

They slept, thinking they'd awake to dreams that've come true.

They sang to the tune of the ones in love, those who are rich and the healthy.

They swirled in joy- not your everyday metaphor- they swirled in joy- not delight not happiness- they swirled around joy but never got there... Never got there, is the point.

And they wrote and wrote and wrote of a sky limitless and of air that is more on the air part of vacuum.

They calligraphed their dreams on canvas.

They rode on elephants only to touch the ground.

The night is long, heavy and thick.
The night, they're afraid, will never end.

No one told them before, no one warned them that every morning there is after it, night.

Water extinguishes the flames within them but is God so weary... to oblige?

It is early morning. Scraps of paper on the floor, words torn asunder. Letters refuted, forced to migrate, sent away, burnt and tortured!

Recorded voices playing behind a curtain.

Muscles torn apart at the genuinity of the smile.

A hip gracing a child and a child intolerant.

A cup of coffee moving with suffocated droplets of vapor trailing behind.

After every morning there is night.

The library.

Into the loops of endlessness.

Glancing up and into the folds of my sleeve, tell me what do you expect to see?
The world? Life? A grave?

Tell me what intrigues you the most.. Roses? Trees? Bones?

Tell me what is it that scares you?
Eyes? Blood ... a knife?

Tell me, what flips your stomach north to east?
Passion? Love? Poison of a seed?

Where does your head fly off to?
Heaven? Purgatory? The foggy sea?

Tell me, darling, who draws a smile on your frowning wrinkles?
Kisses? Yawns? Or maybe, a Goodbye... A goodbye from me?

What do you see when you glance up my sleeve? Through the folds of white and black, What colors can possibly be that your eyes are reflecting?

What do you see? Your orbs so constant; they don't lie, they don't deceive.

Up through the folds of infinity and the loops of never ending, repeated, alternate sighs of destiny..

Tell me! What is that you see? An endless life to be? Did you find the light, perhaps it was all just a bad dream?

Black and white, stripes of black and white.. Circles of black and white .. Lines of random spacing of black and white. Do you see, my darling, how clear this should be?

Exhale.

غادة السّمان