hear me!
daughter of the Nile, each night I pray in this ancient stream of you.
Behold our prophet, Ibrahim,
we bend in prayer and it goes unanswered.
Through the thick of blows and pangs of love, I seek to.
Your body bends on me. God enters me through the corridors of echoing agony...
Clouds tinged with the fire flow of the end, I resurrect in ash and blood.
In ash and blood, I die and am reborn of you again.
We are the children of Seraphim,
women raped in pilgrimage back home, to be taken virginal and desolate
My maker left me here wanton, in vain... Had I chose to be barren, my children buried would cry out in search of a mother.
Seraphim...
begot of love and fear. My only crime was this, the fragile way a heart breaks...
I would have chosen to marry my brother instead. Of my blood, so that he may truly love me. You kept me innocent of incest by taking my mother's rest. You knew the tears of a sister would overwhelm what a brother could bear. That he would kill another man who hurt me.
In my suffering, he would caress my face and I would yearn for him there like a lover. Rejoicing in our mother's beauty, witnessing the similarity of our flesh.
where have you buried the innocence of, mist turned to tigers in watered from?
I slay but do not bind in power, imprisoned I have become
to slay in weeping find
the blooming bud of what birthed inherently anew...
untouched and unbound.
Virginal, virginal only to you.