I will tell you "I love you" .. and narrow the distance between your eyes and my lips and become the air you breathe passes my innocence and I become the hand that you put on the car seat is my hands .. I will say, when I was able, to evoke my childhood, Khayoli, Asakri, And restore the blue time with you on the shores of Beirut .. While I was trembling like a fish between my fingers .. When you are refreshed, when you smell of summer stars .. I will tell you "I love you" .. And wheat germ to mature .. Need you .. And springs to explode .. And civilization until you prepare .. And birds until you learn Ran .. And butterflies until you learn to draw .. I will tell you "I love you" .. When the border falls permanently between you and the poem .. And sleep on the paper writing is not as easy as you think .. Out of the rhythms of poetry .. Not to enter into dialogue with the body I know that the direction .. Word word .. And cut section ... I do not suffer from the complex intellectuals .. But my nature rejects the bodies that do not speak intelligently ... And eyes that do not ask questions .. The requirement of lust for me, linked to the condition of poetry Women poem I die when I write it .. I die when I forget .. I will tell you " Love ".. When healed from schizophrenia that Tmzgueni .. come back and one person .. I will say, when the city and come to terms in the desert interior. All the tribes migrate from the shores of my blood, which was dug by wise men of the Third World over my body, which I have tried for thirty years ... I have deformed my male, and I have sentenced you to 80 skin ... for the sake of femininity. I will not tell you (I love you) .. Today .. I will probably not say tomorrow .. The land takes nine months to look flower and night is suffering a lot .. To give birth to a star .. And humanity waiting for thousands of years .. To look for a prophet .. Why do not wait for some time .. To become My love?? I love you I love you and the rest comes to you a Persian rug .. And your eyes are two bloody flowers .. Flying between the wall and the wall .. My heart travels like a dove over the water of your hands, and takes a nap under the shade of the bracelet .. And I love you .. But I am afraid to get involved in you, I fear autism in you, I am not discussing your love .. It is day and I do not discuss the sun of day I do not discuss your love .. He decides on which day will come .. And on what day will go .. It sets the time Dialogue, and the form of dialogue .. Let me make you tea, you fairy Hassan this morning, and your voice a beautiful inscription on the dress of Marrakech and hold you Play as a child under the mirrors .. And the water sinks from the lip of the mazahri, I give you tea, did you say I love you? Did you say I am happy because you came .. And that your presence is happy like the presence of the poem and such as the presence of boats, and memories remote .. Let me translate some of the words of seats and welcomes you .. Dini, I say what is going on with the cups, thinking of your lips .. And spoons, .. Daini added a new character .. on the letters of the alphabet .. Let me contradict myself a little and all in love between civilization and barbarism.
