Whispers Between the lines

 The skin must have a memory of its own,   And so must the hands,   And the mouth, and the lips...   For what else stirs before me,   To remember you in such a way? Nidal Sati

 How did you settle in my soul   So silently, yet so deeply?   Why is it you of all the world Who walks my veins without permission,   Without a sound? Why does longing bloom for you   Like spring in a barren land?   Why does your absence   Carve wide, aching spaces in my days Rooms where only your silence lives? Your face...   It clings to every sunset,   Rises with the sun at dawn.   You are stitched into the light   And the darkness alike. Why do you haunt my dreams   Like a familiar echo on roads   That lead to nowhere  Yet feel like home? You,   My uninvited guest,   My constant companion,   My sweetest ache.... Nidal Sati