Whispers Between the lines

 And you ask about my paradise. It is no great place, no distant land just this A quiet bench, weathered wood, nestled beneath the blossoming glory of spring, where she sits beside me, Her head was resting softly on my shoulder as if the world had been designed for this peace. In my hand, a book I once traveled far to find selected not due to its plot, but I knew that she would hear it in my voice. I read to her gently lines that have remained within me like far-off reminders passages folded with love words that once moved me Now to share with hope. that they might move her too. And at that time, As petals drop and pages turn, I require nothing more. Nidal Sati

 My love, let me confess   I adore the delicate map of your face   As the lost adore the moon   Guiding them through endless dark.   As lovers crave the sleepless hush of night   Where silence burns with want.   I love you   Like a flicker of hope   That slips between memory’s trembling fingers   A flame never held, never forgotten.   I love you   As one loves water   Just as light kisses its surface Each glimmer revealing more of you,   Until your presence ripples through me,   Clearer, deeper,   With every soft fracture of light   Falling across your beauty.. Nidal Sati

 One day, I will write a novel   About how the universe pressed time and space   Just so I could hold you Not in passing,   But in that slow, silent kind of embrace   Where souls melt and breath forgets its rhythm. I’ll write of how your arms   Wrapped around me like a prayer,   Of how my body learned your shape   By instinct, not memory.   A hug But more than that A merging,   A pause in the world,   Where only warmth and want remained. In that moment,   The stars didn’t shine They listened. Nidal Sati