That night would allow 
eyes to grow from pomegranate seeds

to temples. If only, I knew what a heart was, and death 
shined like oiled on a chastened date tree I should kiss,

     If unchained, these bangles silently clinked 
  as tears

filled up all of the oceans depths, in ecstasy, world
     surrounded in my tears, pining.

If only, my black horse, with his lavender
     almond eyes, and soft mane,

had stopped in Fez to ponder the world a little longer, with me.

May we buy, Sidi Shaykh, a gift, I had asked, but my horse had grown

green wings and flew 
for someone, who would give him grape leaves to chew and a bed

made of hay and newspapers to sleep on. If only, 
unchained in this Earthly realm. My heart concealed in dust’s ears.

Tear-dropped of passion-burgundy-wine 
would contain, drown my erasing soul, if only, I knew

 Darija, smiling I would tell you. 
If we only, we believed this feeble heart.

God dwells in every separation.

and if I were free, if only this longing, 
would subside, close my eyelids with red beads.

Wrap my heart in white-dust. In your office, I told you, 
I heard the water entranced in dhikr as it dropped

from the faucet; to which, you replied, water doesn’t have to drop 
 to do dhikr.

It is in constant state of dhikr.

If it is pleasant, 
 I want to pass this world and leave it behind.

And my soul will ravel circumference 
 around sun, and I will be happy to meet my Lord.

        Don’t weep, 
Indeed by Allah, exalted. If only, you knew what a heart can contain. 

If we love this faintly life, only. 
If next time,
I will say, this pain is not mine as, Huma Aatifi.