Madeeha

[A birthday gift by Rukhiya Faheem.]

I should wish to call you a fairy
If we both could dismiss the garish curves of her sorcery.

I delight in you, your colors
The stretch of your smile
The waves of your voice
That seem to breach, gently.
Undo and untie my webs, set me breathing
And then as you leave, you keep the doors ajar and approachable to bored spiders until I am calling from the stickiness.

You write and say words that fill me to my fingertips and then are kind to listen to the same from my mouth.
I wish to compare you to the morning flowers, to the depths of rivers, to the scarceness of peace, to bareness, to the overwhelming dramas on the skies herearound and to several everyday things.
I also wish to convey all this without actively conveying.
(Since we’ve haven’t met yet, you might not notice my shortcomings)

The Sun at dawn and dusk,
The white of the moon, and the early stars
The dull buzz of a bee
The red of strawberries
The not-poised-on-the-tip-of-my-tongue things
Are you, in different forms.

Like all our abrupt ends I’ll sign off from this dialogue with this-
What swirls in me and then rests pleasantly on my heart
Is love, I am certain
For myself and to what it could be (that is you.)