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Scars of Rapture
Shams, I have done everything I know so this would not happen.
You came into my life like a wing of fire, possessing and possessed by something not seen.
When you first spoke my books turned to clay, and my throat closed around a lost syllable.
Your eyes burned over me, leaving scars of rapture, my spirit became a field swept clean by flame.
Can you think how it was that morning I woke first, and found you, an unbound mystery by my side.
Or the day we did not eat, but drank from one another's light till we were ribboned by dusk.
The air here holds only emptiness, a little dust stirring. I think there will be wind tonight, and the camels will cry out in their sleep.
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