Poetry by Rukan Saif
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my qareen moves |
in velcroed silence, |
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she tries to feed me |
sugared bones. |
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she is |
suspended above me |
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like the stone of Tantalus. |
infiltrator, |
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i am her selenoskopia |
my qareen, |
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she teaches me the soul |
is a mixed and intermediate thing— |
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was born cratered, |
was born rooted in evil & |
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in good. |
i wonder if she prostrates to Aisha Qandisha or |
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to Allah, |
whether she is afraid i will leave. |
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each time i return |
she persists, binding me with her charms. |
