Deborah Jordan

Bedouin - Poem by Deborah Jordan
I know his betraying hips
so well.
Every fluid twist and turn.
I watched him my sisters,
as a ghost.
Silent as the sand.
Undisturbed.
I ask you, where
did my reason go?
The day I saw his eyes.
Shimmering emeralds,
behind such hair,
black as kohl.
My sisters,
the ground withered
beneath my feet.
My heart became a guest.
A guest must never
be denied,
but I,
was never free to choose,
my sisters.
The moon is full.
Jihanah moon.
A pool of light falls,
a circular sea he dances across.
Moving like a mirage
of pure water.
But I, am left with salt
and a knife in my hand.
I spend the nights sleepless.
Dishonour, the blanket
which lies heavy
on me.
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