The Meeting

I meet her and she meets I,
Unlike garrulous sluts and studded inccubi,
Our hands and bodies mumble in desire,
We are naught but lovers kindled in fire,
The earth deviates into dreams and lies,
All living seals beyond the lonely skies,
We in our passions and lusts neglect all,
A bond is forged and we shall not fall.

Before merging we must first squeeze,
Our essence and our souls like wine,
Anxious miseries of past shall freeze,
We drink so I am hers and she is mine.

Into a luxurious chamber soaked in purple,
Its bed, a square of pillows red as apple,
Threads of petals form a splendorous veil,
We lie, touch, and like a first born we inhale,
Now we wear that which manifests the room,
Too long have our beauties hidden in gloom,
Neither doubt nor conscience stands in our way,
Swaying our names and limbs, begins our play.

Nik Zaid Hanis

Fall 2005