Wednesday Poem

For My Palms
Fatiha Morchid

When out of a nightmare
You come to me
To exchange
Your bed . . .
For my palms
I let my locks hang down
Like navy-blue curtains
Spread out the gloom of waiting
Like a Sufi carpet
Then like a gypsy wet-nurse
Sit in solemn submission . . .
Shaking fatigue off your feet
And clouds off your forehead
Telling the story
Of Sleeping Beauty
Hoping you lie
Forever in my palms.

From: Ima’aat
Publisher: Dar Attakafah, Casablanca
Translation: Norddine Zouitni