in the depths of winter I finally learned there was in me an invincible summer

in one of the oldest cities, deep in the piles of my research, my mind can only think of one thing. eve. there has not been a single day where i have not thought of you. every night i dream of your perfectly lined hair, your lighting eyes, god, your smile. this city has seen too much loss, too much destruction and here i am bringing one more loss.

i swear to you eve, none of this is easy. when nights dreaming of you turn into days, i don’t want the morning to come. i wake up alone, clutching a blanket, shaking from my thundering tears. i shudder and think what is there to move on to?

my research. eve, i am wrapping myself in it because every time i do, your joyful smile and quick jump of excitement when i told you about it dance in the shadows of my mind. your hair brushes over my books; it is your eyes that is searching for a glimpse into the minds of these syrian muslim women. your tears mix with mine when i cannot help but fall into the beauty of these mosques and the devotions but into every single inch.

i want your passion and your love but sometimes all i can find are my weary muscles and swollen eyes. these women i am meeting definitely have a passion and deep love for something in this world. i know i will find what lingers in their mind in their waking moments, the image that pushes their thoughts into conscious actions. i will find their eve.

there is too much in this world

struggle to salvage the soul the world shreds with its flailing clutches,
shriveled fingertips, worn from grasping the end of thoughts,
stories that erode my eternal faith.

i do not want to hear the end.
how can the end be good when there is so much pain?

turn aside and lose your mind in nothingness to forget.
forget their stories, forget your stories,
forget that there is too much in this world.

i grab my pen to record the evidence of my existence,
with it, i multiply word archives.
difference has been added.

now, open to your control of the journey,

i will connect myself to this earth,
rooting my limbs while muscles still inspire,
and breaths long enough to shape actions,

so when my part in this tale ends,
it will be such an end,
as to be worthy of remembrance.