You will come here with a rose in one hand
a mouth full of adjustments
& I will tell you that I prefer tulips,
& men who don’t try to tailor me.
If you run away,
I will lock the door after you.
And if you choose to stay, I will stir the taboo -
Lay its outstretched limbs on the table
And this is how you will never forget me.
I carry my bedouin ancestors’ audacity
My mother’s dignity
And my father’s spirit.
You will come here with a bouquet in one hand
A promise ring in the other
But you will not have me.
I will tell you to spit out the mediocrity
Empty your hands
Bite off what you can chew
And you will still think of me.