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  • صورة الكاتبملاك الراشد

Gold

A Short History of Harem


The sky looked at me with shame,

I felt it gazing on my body

It heated my skin,

Burned it.

Punished—I am

For Man’s fall.

Dark is the night now

I breathe air and bow

Today—no one ate me.

There are hyenas that are stalking me;

I couldn’t run for I am tied

They smelled my blood from a distance

Greedy steps and lustful eyes—

Their haunt is over.

They awaited now—mouths wild open

Concealing their claws

Acting civil before the auction starts.

Put on a bid of Gold—

At my father’s doors

An auction made so I could be sold.

They take my gown off,

For me, thousands of Gold

Pushed, turned, touched

I warmed them despite the night’s cold

Shouting more—

More.

I am a property,

Bought and sold on Gold.

The hyenas came closer,

Dancing as they move,

Teeth made of bones.

A wreath of daisies and lilies,

Wearing a white gown and a smile.

I'm accustomed to this, at least I'm told

That I'm beautiful and fair.

They sing and I sing along,

A lullaby,

A chant to the passive present.

Howbeit, I'm pulled from

My melodious lay.

I walk, and the songs are

Descending to lustful utters

And loud howls,

Their bodies needed a cure, a healing

To sneak up, again

And pounce on their prey.

What a pity to choose life

This life— each time.

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