We could lie about everything,
we could deny it all,
but the swell of his arms,
the richness of his dark hair swallowing my hands,
the fierceness of his stare,
the power of his presence,
the pull of his voice,
that distinguished accent when he says;
"habibi, 'ant jamilat fi allayl walnahar eindama yaqbal alqamar walshams bisharatik walakinn kulu ma tastahiquh lan yuqaran bialkalimat , 'ana dhahabuk wa'almask , 'akhbirni bima tatamanaah"
that has me on my knees,
Do with me as you please sire,

He is brown,he is white,
maybe black, maybe light,
all that he is, I would admire,
for where he hails, my heart desires,
He'll speak and I'll fall,
like temptation to sin,
clouds the thought of salvation,
Lord let me this chance to appreciate a creation I must detest,
for my religion forbids me to be unequivocally yoked with his kind,
If this is sin, lord have mercy,
His beauty knows no bounds,
like an angel wrapped with wings,
and the glory of the sun kissing his feet,

He would buy me all that I wish and need,
give me the luxury I so desire,
protect me like a priceless jewel,
yet all I'd ever want would be,
to hear his first voice when he arises from sleep,
I am selfish and would not share,
this beauty I have beheld,
is mine to hold and cherish,
would be loved and guarded like a second heart,
he is mine and only mine,
Although he's just in my dreams.
© Nehita Williams