My Arabian Girl

April 17, 2010
Your midnight eyes, black like kabba stone, rise in the morning.
Behind your palm frond lashes and thick veil,
You can still see the men who worship and love you
No better than the sand beneath their feet.
You are
The rib of Adam
The cohort of serpents
The scorn of God
The temptress of men.
It is an insignificant thing that behind those eyes
Lies a temple, pure and dazzling white;
Your brothers will see to it that you are bound with shadows,
With the darkness they imagine you to be.

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