Could it be that the old sewing
machine
my mother gave me
would finally come in handy?
You see, my love,
You need to be careful.
I am a seamstress’s daughter,
and every time we kiss
I yearn to stitch our lips together:
It is in my genes.
… But then I remember
the thrill of feeling your breath
getting closer,
the warmth of your tongue as it
reaches out from a distance,
and I let your mouth go
unattached like a nonchalant piece of
fabric
which fate is still unknown in a
tailor’s mind,
so that the miracle keeps creating
itself
under my starving needle,
with no thread needed
but the imaginary line
that magically fuses
your heart with mine.
Joumana Haddad
