I am aroused by every syllable escaping her lips
She talks in riddles
She mumbles the truth
She exhales, I inhale
The pothole of a junkie

A shattered skeleton, I fall
A disabled man, I fall
A modern Sisyphus, I fall

We will rise as the sun sets
We are creators and the night breeds inspiration,
So meet me under the moonlight and leave your mask at home

Home is where the hurt is
Do look back but don’t stare for too long
Now close your eyes and breathe
Breathe slowly…

She pours out herself into the darkness
She moans the truth, her truth
I whisper the truth, my truth

A revived skeleton, I stand
A disabled man, I stand
A modern Sisyphus, I stand!

Now shut your mouth against mine, for there is no truth; only gibberish

Thus spoke IbnRishdi

Crimson Secret

In through the back door, on the couch.
The scent of jasmine and lilies – perfect.
Ice in the scotch chinked a tune.
Approached her on the balcony, unchecked.
My hand on her shoulder, she smiled back – a sign.
Eyes wandered to the fabric – divine.
Met my gaze, whet my thoughts – ardor.
Our drinks can wait, would her spouse? – torpor.
Before the fire, on the rug.
Yearnings caught fire in our veins.
Her shiver, her breathe, her sweat – glistening.
Dancing to the Howlin’ Wolf – prefect rhythm.
Thrust, unite, firm grip,
Ecstasy, procurement, bodies drip.

The ice melted, the jasmine slept,
My smell lingers on her, crept up in her bed
Backdoor alarm, time to go
Society asleep, blind, rooster crowing,
Only she will know.