you sprawl 
above me
beneath me
around me
inside me
you sink

like a meadow
dressed with flowers
you sing

and why should i
object or complain?

but i have questions
inside my head

you see…

i want to know about the blue hue
that colors your longing at night

i want to know about the way
you balance necessity and desire

i want…

there is so much i want to know

but you know… my mind…
it can’t soar across the wilderness of you

but still…

i want to know what clouds your head

and what about
that icy feeling you have
when you remember

and what about these thoughts
i have of you?

and what about this burn
you have for me?

and what about the echo
your flesh chants
beneath my skin
when you are not near?



that certain day
that certain moment
a moment keening with truth

i started to write something
but my gut said,
close this notebook

and i saw how
that beautiful moment
was not about words

it was about silence

and stillness

and the transformation therein



a couple of weeks ago
my love said to me,
nevine, you look exhausted
without princess or preamble

and i said,
i do?
as if i didn’t know
as if i didn’t feel

and i looked at myself
in the mirror
i looked
without having to look too hard

and i told myself i had to stop
for heaven’s sake
(no… for mine)
or else…


i caught myself running
and struggling
to catch my breath

i caught myself
heaving with exhaustion
at my own reflection

i caught myself giving
to others
giving care
and nurturing
and support
bearing their burdens
while they crumbled
beneath the weight

i caught myself
giving to others
but not
giving to me

and which crack
i wondered
had i slipped through
which crack
while pondering self-care?
where did my foot slide
beneath me?
when did my arms
not reach out to catch me
as i fell?

but i did slip
no matter how
or where
or when
i slipped
and found myself


into self-love
because who else
will love me
as i love me?

and i caught myself
at the last moment
i caught myself
by my very arms
and wrapped my arms
around me
and told me to
hold on right here, nevine

and while wrapping
i remembered
when i was a child
always running
through the woods
so i could hear the wind
sing in my hair

and while holding
i realized
i am no longer a child
and that running
through the woods
means never getting
to see the trees



i have been running
and running
and wanting to pause
while asking myself,
shall i stop?

shall i stop
and wait
and listen
for another’s footfalls
on the floor?

they might tell me,
i am here
i am here

but the footfalls
of another
would never suffice

only my feet
can lift me
can move me
can shift me
from here
to there
to here again

only my feet…
from that
to this

one footfall
and another
one breath
and the next

one touch
one sanctuary

and here
i rest



it rained again, last night. it poured as if the sky were angry at the earth for not wanting more. and what could i do but sit there in the dark and listen to it all with wonder? more decadent than the falling of the rain was its sound. some kind of secret language of lovebites and kisses, 
the pitter patter
the gentle caress of
warm lips on yearning skin
the complex lust of need need need
more eloquent
more furious
than the simple lust of desire

earth and sky
earth and sky
earth on top
sky below
the violent drumming
of primitive storm
the gift of sky’s furious hammer
and the earth unfolding
sky on top
earth below
absorbing, ever so gently
the sky’s ejaculation

how they have burned for one another!

and how i have burned
and waited
. . .
to watch, like a voyeur
their sweet release
in the ubiquity of night!



she asked me,
what do you think
of these chance encounters
of ours?

and i did not know
what to say.

i am not a believer in chance,
you see.

i am a believer
in the non-existence of coincidence.

i am a believer
in providence.

but still,
i challenge it.

and what troughs i drink from
while journeying
from ambition
to realization!



with the closing of a chapter
comes the turning of a page



last night. an odd exchange.


faced with a situation. an unexpected situation. unexpected… and evil… and cruel. faced with that situation: i feigned ignorance. i played the fool.

and as i did, this truth washed over me:

feigning ignorance allows moments of revelation… followed by a sense of gratification. and not just any gratification! The Uncontested Gratification. this is the gratification that follows our allowing others to lower their defenses before us.

here was the other, before me, thinking, she’s an idiot. she’ll never be on to me! he thought this to himself, and i saw him think it! i saw it in his eyes that flickered, ever so briefly, with the delicate brushstrokes of deceit. and he so quickly… so readily… shed his false airs while thinking i wasn’t paying attention.

and all the time, i was watching… so closely. and seeing… so precisely… just what he would do next. and divining… as if by incantation… just what he would say.

and he said it! and i smiled. but only with my eyes that flickered, ever so briefly, with the delicate brushstrokes of gratification. that his eyes could see just what i wanted them to see. and he saw!

and after he saw, we parted.