Love

Rahim Water Pic

Her name, thick with the heavy aroma of guttering liquid light, rose and fell with his breath, unlocked his shackles and untied his wings. His stomach fluttered. Lifting him in her soft petaled hands, she carried him, his chest expanding, across vast expanses of desert, past waves rooted in the depths rising like flowers. Far she carried him over the vast Sea of Luminous Pearls bursting with the light of sapphire buds. Far she carried him, breathless, to the place where the sky emerged from the deep sea. Gone, gone, far beyond the shore, her name, a soft distracted song, cradled him under the infinite blue.

“Layla.”

Soft as kashmir, the woolen breath of a name kept him warm in winter’s chill and kindled the summer’s fire.

He closed his eyes and tucked himself into her name, a name as dark as the night’s conspiracies to dream.

“Layla.”

The name within whose eyelashes he took refuge so he might gaze upon the diamond in the midnight of her new moon eyes, the very same eyes upon which shimmering rays of sun glided and guided the bloom of spring.

“Layla.”

All the flowers in the world could not produce a honey as sweet and succulent as that which dripped from her name. Bees and butterflies sought her name, her scent—the name of that ambrosial nectar from which countless tongues spilled.

Cupped in her jasmine hands, he drifted past cheeks flawless as the gazelle’s oceanic eyes and eddied around agate lips before he crested her gentle chin; he paused to gaze across her prone resplendent body and watch the tides of breath wax and wane in this—this moment of sailing under a million stars expanding, weaving—

“him.”

—weaving him within their dreams to rid—

him!

–to rid him of his history and his name. And there, in that place where the sea and sky embraced one another, he closed his eyes, puckered his lips, and leaned forward—

“Rahim ibn Rahman al-Asra!”

The voice unraveled the stars and rent the sea from the sky. Took hold of the thread and yanked him back. The kiss, the long awaited kiss, dead and gone. His name doused his rising fire and in pulling the wool from his eyes, scattered the ashes of her name across the kitchen floor, tied his wings, and locked the shackles in this, a charred and calcified night.


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