the morning-sun glows in a Promise so celestial,
over your tender face, a soul too dear, too adorable
for this world (of envy and hate) itself to astound
over you–a Beauty, never seen or heard around;
reflecting in seductive rays across your face, with me
stricken with your gleam,
your heavenly charms which I only fancy in my best
dream–
that lip that I’d not tire of kissing but in my wishful
unrest,
and those breasts I long for beyond what can be
expressed;
a willing prisoner, I’m lost in the mystery
of your eyes,
and not with my hand, but with all my
heart I glimpse your thighs;
your quiet, indifferent airs, your smile
arresting me in heart for longer than a
while—
remembering, like seeing, you easily
drives me most lonely–
of all women, for Beauty aren’t you the one and only?
Born in Mogadishu, Somalia, the poet was raised in a politically prominent family; yet in his early teens, the poet and his family emigrated to the United States, where the poet lived for nearly two decades. The poet now lives in his land of birth and works as a freelance journalist and writer. He feels a particular attachment to John Keats and Percy Shelley for their vehement opposition to the inhumane effects on ordinary people such as the consequences of industrial development in their lifetimes–and reminds us that technological progress today does the same: ‘Weep, for the world is wrong!’ (Percy Shelley, “Dirge”).