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My Heart, Rue 4
Do you have any gum?”
Oh to ask this simple question of five words
to these two wrinkly ocean eyes,
their lashes laugh and plant their seeds
in the grooves and sulci of these wrinkles
scented roses bloom among them
with my inner child patiently waiting
for his veiny mapped fingers to mint the flavors
before caressing it with my tongue.

“Can I pick a pretty one for you this time?”
I’d ask her graceful face of hazel greenish eyes
while sparkling my eyes with her button
collection unboxing her metallic boxes from
the junky drawer those buttons of various
shades and shapes —colorful balloons
which hugged my clouds
her hands were always sewing pretty fabrics
how I wished she’d sew my thoughts with hers
to make a quilt which I could tuck myself underneath.

Whenever my lettered feelings get lost
by the mailman of woes,
I’d find them in their mailbox
along with stamps of butterflies and newspapers;
an opening welcome from both of my grandparents
starts only with a knock

I’ll wait until I’ll be one
one day
insha’Allah

© Razane