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I could probably write the saddest poem tonight, just like Neruda, where the night and the stars would be shattered and my thoughts would run with the wind- undone, frightened … dancing in a suit not matching the silver tie of a lonely heart.

I could play in my mind, again and again, the moment when the big, yellow bus leaves Makadi bay and the smile on my face touches the sadness in his eyes; and the taste of kisses on my lips, they fade away with every mile passing by.

I could dare and say, tonight, that I loved him and he loved me back and how couldn’t we? Kindred hearts always know when they share a carbon soul; and the darkness will no longer be shattered, the stars will shine with apology, but I no longer love him and this is the saddest song I’ve ever heard.

I could admit that I’ve moved towards the light of freedom, but in nights like this, the yellow bus never leaves the Red sea shore and he and I, we are the invisible Arabic letters tangled in the meaning of the word ‘passion’…

And just like Neruda, tonight I could say: “Love is so short, forgetting is so long.”

 

©2013, B. T., All rights reserved

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