Is air enough
For us to split a cold kiss
Darkness damages desire
Living is less than a drop
Don’t waste your whole body
Now
Bullets miss the head
That sleeps on your chest
Bullets miss the mouth and the nipple
Hands see
Then we touch so we don’t get lost
This is your mouth
The chubbiness of the armpit
The curvature of the thigh
And this is my fear
Why your hands read my thoughts
~ Bassam Hajjar, trans. Maged Zaher