Perfume
When you touch my hand,
On our long-awaited hot date,
I understand
To what extent you’ve been longing
To see me in exalted state.
Dreamy, dizzy, dormant I’ve become
The fragrance mesmerizes me,
The captivating scent drives me wild,
Dab the keen scent on my soft cheek,
It looks like the skin of a frail child,
I’d lose control, I’d feel inevitably weak.
My eyes start to shut
No wink of sleep I can get,
The scent of your perfume
Takes me far away,
Crossing oceans, reaching farther seas.
Digging deep wells, seeking invisible breeze.
Whenever we meet
Wherever we take a seat,
In any restaurant we used to eat,
On every occasion,
There is celebration
I do entail,
The omnipresence of your irresistible perfume does
prevail
It rules
It governs
It judges
It may forgive
But sometimes, it puts in jail.
Whenever we gather
Wearing your perfume together
On this occasion
Your indescribable odour makes me
Cry
Sigh
die
Fly
I go places
I meet races
I witness cases
In many turbulent faces:
Italy, London or Paris
Thanks to your perfume,
My days, my years
Are devoid of any crisis…
The Co-Authored Poem
You are my imagery Your tongue I am
My skyscraper,
My spring, my fall
My everything, my all
My painless weapon
My stainless swords,
My fridge, my mall
My blue pen,
My encyclopaedia
Full of words
My net connection,
My phone call.
My broodmare,
My boat setting sail,
My freedom
My wings.
My boat, my anchor
My compass, my harbour
My strength, my ardour
My sweetest snare.
Charm
If you would like to change her life, please
Quite easy, it is !
All
you must make
Is
A
birthday cake
With some blueberries
But
never forget
A
golden bracelet
And
neck accessories…
If you would love to charm her life, please
So easy, this is !
All you need
Is
A shopping check
With some notes
But never ignore to,
Be chic,
With a smile, clearly
Dabbing that wreck
And a kiss on the cheek…
The Leopard Can’t Change His Spots
Every day he pretends to be himself
Claiming there is no glass on the shelf
Promising to wipe the dust away
To efface the trouble every day
Looking at himself in the mirror
He may see a fake man
The picture can be distorted
A fly poses on the edge
Obsessed with fear
Wrapped in terror
Filled with emptiness
To serenity, there is no access.
Me is not I?
He conquered his features
Struggling to fix the nose; yet
The eyes widened
The ears shortened
What can he do?
Sadly he joined the room
Slamming the window
Crashing against the wardrobe
Disguised he is
Female garments suit him
The dress fit him
The fly mumbled: “a liar is on fire”
The man was on horror
Dumbstruck
Put off the dress
Felt the approaching stress
The sweat reaches the harbour
“The liar, repressed desire
Fixed is the self
My new image
Ordered is the shelf”
Archaic Thoughts
He minds nothing as much as his best bib and Tucker...
Dumps old
shoes...
Seeks brand new
cars...
Purchases highly
coveted watches...
Searches for
novel fragrances...
While keeping
the same archaic thoughts...
Dr. Anissa Sboui - is a University teacher and poet from Sousse, Tunisia
-The writer of Transcend (2018), Rebirth
(2019) and Number One (2020), The Co-Avid Breath
(2021), Hurricane (2022) Two short-stories, entitled “Alone” and
“Coincidence”
- Her poems featured in Writing in a Woman’s Voice, The Writers’ Club, Galaxy: International Multidisciplinary Research Journal, Dumpster Fire Press, Medusa’s Kitchen, The 2020 Annual by the Elizabeth River Writers, Valiant Scribe, and Literary Heist
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