Departure is an easy art to learn

I dreamed that someone asked me to describe love, and I did not speak about you. That terrifies me! Thinking that there is—somewhere in the future—a version of me that thinks about your lips when you bite the peach. I want to cry when I think of that, but I also want to be that version. I found myself mesmerized by poetry not by names, by pain not by passports, by suffering not by eye color, by loss not by skin tones and complexions; to realize when I reached the last word that I had just experienced a delightful, distinguished, and great feeling. I have always believed that poetry, in all languages, is the voice of man and the land, I confirm that here and now! I have always believed that the story is behind the woman... and poetry was a lost boy whom the woman gave milk and a bed and taught him speech! I was suspicious of poetry translation until I read your touches, Stephanie Dalaal, in this book. Rowda Al-Haj Number of pages: 152