By Fadi Abu Deeb

(Published originally in Inventory No.8, Princeton University)

She said:

I leave you behind in my bed

from my window

Bewildered, I watch the invading flood

Only Venus has yet to appear in the sky!

After ten years you’ll wake from your slumber

For you I’ve perfumed my pillow with spells of lilac

On my mattress, I have placed a talisman of my hair’s fragrance

Stay dormant,

for the last star has yet to rise

nor has the color been transformed

—

I know everything about your village:

Its olive trees are planted in a sea that no one sees but you

On Sundays, its sun glows orange

and it witnesses the resurrection of the world once every year

in an hour revealed to you by Michael,

after midnight and before dawn

—

As the seven stars rise,

I’ll return to our bed

once and for all