Paradise Revisited
My shoes scuff on the marble floorAnd leave black stains. I notice them,
Walk back to try and wipe it off, only
To leave some more.
She comes to me,
Takes my hand, hers, so soft, while mine,
Callused, brush harsh against her skin.
I imagine her lips twitching at the prick, yet
She still pulls me within.
The party’s lax now.
The people’s speech are slurry. Their hands
Wave wildly, talking another language
Alongside the one slipping out their lips.
I’d slip out too if my hands weren’t
Leashed by her.
We move through seas
And oceans of people. Wealthy people
Love to talk as if talk is a battlefield
And to them it is. A lot of posturing.
I imagine myself an anthropologist.
Jane Goodall amongst the chimps.
I watch as she wades through them all.
Slipping in and out of conversations
Like a swimmer cutting through the waves
Of a raging sea, simply with cupped hands
And an amazing posture. She seems
Born for this. But me? But me?
“You should wipe that sour look off your face,”
She says, handing me a drink. “I can’t
Seem to,” I reply. I take a sip.
She does too. We look out into the distance
As the lights around us shine so bright
No stars can peek through the night.
“I brought you here with me, my dear,”
She says, downing her drink, “And that
Is the only validity you should need.
Unless you’re quite foolish.”
Her lips
Shoot out her mouth, land on my cheek,
And off she goes, diving back in.
I stand ashore, lingering. My eyes
On her glistening skin, shiny as scales
Of mystical mermaids. She looks back at me
And in that moment
All the stars in the sky
Couldn’t shine as bright
As her smile.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 22 times
Written on 2026-04-11 at 13:17
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