Secrets

 

It was a secret

One of rusty “romantism”.

Thirty years old.

The kind of secrets

That made you smile in retrospect;

and made people wonder.

It enchanted me.

Typical, no?

What about you? I asked.

He simply shrugged.

That’s how he was.

Nonchalant.

 

I didn’t care.

This one was mine.

 

I closed my eyes.

My illusions were racing.

Music.

Music filling a roman stadium.

Overwhelmed faces around me.

I’m the only one hiding a secret in my smile.

I’m breathless,

seeing everything through a gray haze.

I will laugh.

They don’t know.

They don’t know.

 What it’s like.

 To be here.

Along with a reminiscing breeze..

..وتكبر في الموال البلدي مساءً

 

Mystique

There he was
Staring at another time
Shadows hovering over his eyes

His fingers moved
To a beat only he could hear

He took a drag from his cigarette
A sigh escaped his lips
It was almost silent

She could feel..
The intense nostalgia of his thoughts.
They were far from her,
Thirty years worth of time.

She could reach out
In a second
Touch his face
She refrained.
He’s not here.

What is it he once said?
Mysteries are better than realities.
She agreed
Mysteries…
You ache to touch them.

As she sat there, bemused by his presence
Endless words came rushing to her mind
She slowed them down
That night.. they were useless

She looked at him
Smiled.

Hes made of

A thousand

Melancholic

Pieces

Of music…

 

And yet..