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Virtual RomanceI used to love the sound of the ocean,
the waves crashed into the beach
and the foam that formed on top.
It made me think about old myths
And my mind would wander around dreams and fantasies
of what love would feel like.
Faster heartbeats, and butterflies
like you're floating around on a cloud.
Maybe I was just naive, to not realize
that love isn't always so predictable
or so wonderful.
I had my heart broken, shattered and torn
I built brick walls around it
brick covered in diamond coated steel
And promised myself I would never let another man touch it
And then I met you.
You were just words on a screen at first
but then my heart beat faster when you were around
and I got little tingles in my stomach and toes
I tried to stop it, tried to slow my heartbeat
and tell myself those butterflies
were just indigestion
I was in denial, that I could feel something so real
over something so virtual.
But I couldn't help myself.
damn Cupid hit me straight where it counts
and I fell f
The sun was hot that day, beating down on my neck
beads of sweat were stuck in your moustache, and your sunken eyes
were so alive when you smiled at me and my girlish excitement
I wanted that new dress at the market, and you promised you would buy it for me.
But first we had to find Abbas, he had wandered off
probably to use his smile against pretty girls you told me.
I remember the sound of your voice as you told me
(your little Amirah)
that I was a blessing, that you were glad you had me, your boyish girl.
Your hand felt so rough and big in mine as I held it
walking in the market that day.
These were some of my favorite moments, walking with you
on our weekly shopping trips.
You stopped to light a cigarette, camels, your favorite kind.
I ran ahead because something shiney had caught my eye, a beautiful vase.
In that moment, the second my fingers touched the warm glass
heated in the hot sun
My life changed.
I will never forget that sound, a near by woman screamed
-- Or w
There's more to me than tan skin and dark hair
there's more than a face hidden beneath a veil.
--or a body covered by an abaya
I have a brain, that can think for itself
and I have a heart
that is breaking a little more every day.
My eyes have seen the most beautiful places the world has to offer
and they have seen them destroyed.
My arms have held a child, crying over what is left of his mother
and they have held a gun, with the intent of killing.
My feet have felt the joy of cool sand,
and have been scarred by the pain of hot ash.
And these lips, do you see them?
They have never stopped screaming,
not since I was a young teen, and I watched the man who sat me on his lap
and read to me
and smelled like hookah smoke
drop to the ground in the middle of the street, because
he was the "wrong" kind of Muslim.
And these hands have never stopped writing
So that your children's hands will never be covered in your blood
So that people don't forget that
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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