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Tomo Nogi via Unsplash

her legs, her face in the sun

Kamila Zguzi
May 30, 2018 · 4 min read

I woke up and it was light
her legs were wrapped around
my knees
she couldn’t reach my feet with her feet
because she was short
and I was tall
her skin was so hot in the morning
she did this thing, still half asleep
she took off her nightgown
and pressed her bare naked back
against my face
she moved her hair away from her neck
spread it on the pillow
like flowers
long, black flowers
her ribcage was full of flowers too
and then she would leave me there
with my head in the middle of the pillow
smelling her hair
she smells like seaweed
sweetness
sometimes salt
and I run my hands through her body
and she purrs like a cat bending her lean spine
against my fingers
there are flowers between her strong legs
there is nothing modest about the way she spreads them
in front of my face
her garden is sweet
heavy
and she would make me tired
sometimes three times in a row
her sweat soaked up by my shirt
after all that
she would sleep in my hand
like a curled up
rose
and she’d be mine for all the days
nights
and nothing would matter
as she would love the child
the boy
the man
in me
I would kiss the purple bruises
on her translucent soul
she would dress the wounds in my head
kiss my feet
rub the fears away with a pair of brown eyes
and I would rise up from her bed
to spill water over the carpet
and her gentle laugh would ring in my ears
like Summer’s rain
on a window seat

I gamble sometimes
not very often
but
often enough to screw up my life
from time to time
sometimes
I even manage
to screw someone else’s soul
just to stop everything
grapes falling out of her mouth
and the moans
so I thought
I am going to walk out on her first
I wanted to be righteous
but all I could smell
was my own fear
and the flowers that I ripped out of her heart
when her wet face
tried to hide in my hand

she was inside my eyes
each morning
and I was inside her
each night
yet
when the time came to look her in the eyes
I ran

so I left few photographs on her bed
me sitting in underwear
and
a shirt
on another woman’s messy bed
you could hear her laughter in the background
and her hands were reaching towards my face
to caress it
but I laughed too
and I left her a photograph of me on the other woman’s
sofa
bits of my naked arms and chest
poking from underneath the white duvet
she was talking to me
and I laughed to myself
sorrow, she must have felt it
and good

I laid down on my bed
and it rained on me
on my face
that she once called beautiful
on my head
that she once touched to ease my aching
I remembered when she cried
when I made love to her
in white bedsheets
scattered with wild flowers

she loved me

I stayed here
surviving
in this house
going to another one
that other one
riding my bicycle in the rain
all over the town
her taking pictures
cooking chicken soup
eating vegetables
smoking
surviving my killed bird
and I am good at killing

I did not wanted to listen to her
so she looked at me
with big brown eyes full of rain
she looked at me
like only a woman in love can
not some woman
but your woman
that picks up your clothes scattered all over the bedroom
and brings you eggs for breakfast
a woman that will stand by your side
holding your hand like a child
and sleep in the legs of your bed
and then you don’t believe her
because you’re a dumb fool
thinking that you’re the only one
that knows
something
anything
anywhere

one time in your life
there comes a woman
that sinks into your body
like the sweet afternoon sweat
brought to you by summer
she resides on your skin
and you sit there and watch the bits of that sweat
filling out your shirt and your trousers
some days you don’t see anything
because the sweat gets into your eyes
and mouth too, or ears
it fills you in
she coos over you
like you’re a wounded bird
fallen out of its nest
and you don’t see it
that she was yours all along
she kisses the top of your nose with her mouth
and it’s good
and she makes you laugh
and it’s good too
you can be weak with her
soft
like a newborn kitten
and god damn it
she boils your blood
but then you feel life and the heat of that blood
and it’s good again
her head falls asleep in the middle of your chest
and it’s good
she makes love to you
and it’s beyond the good
so good that it ruins
you

then you wake up thinking that she came back
but she didn’t
it’s just your shadow
of a dog
you want to think that it was the life
that played this game on you
but it wasn’t life
it was you

when she left
she took the splendidness of the sun with her

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a…

Kamila Zguzi

Written by

I write when I feel, which is pretty much all the time.

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

Kamila Zguzi

Written by

I write when I feel, which is pretty much all the time.

Poets Unlimited

Six Years of poetry-only publishing, PoetsUnlimited was a diverse, engaging and authentic poetry magazine. For most of that time a daily publication, it was always diverse and original, and free-to-read by all.

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