I listen to her music night after night. Languid and dreamy. Reluctant to please, but pleases to the very soul.
Her music flows down my hills, like a lazy, lazy melody on a still Beiruty night… atonal, confusing, then rhythmic and enchanting… She enthralled my heart and will never give it back. I love her. And she loves me.
Today, she’s happy.
She sits on the balcony, sips her coffee and embraces the sea with a gaze. She plays her music. Her lazy, lazy music. I see a smirk on her lips. She is content. She knows life now. She knows how to play, and she’s ready to strike another game.
7 comments:
Hey Gus,
did you post this in the morning? saba7u,
they are very nice.
adios,
anonymous is the name.
Hi anonymous (how cruel must your parents be to name you anonymous),
Thanks for the comment
my baby has a heart and it is mine. of course it is, i grew it with dami, doumou3i wa ibtisamati!!!
no, no exclamation points for you. with you it's proclamation..
thanks baby, you made my day like you make my life.
M.
mirvat wli 3aleiii!!! impressive ..
anonymous..are you hisham?
Ghassan, I just discovered your blog. For a long time you would comment but there was nothing on the way back to your profile. I am especially glad you're not blogging politics. Your writing is beautiful. I will be back often.
-Fouad
Thanks Fouad, that was so nice of you.
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