Carnations
          flee
Carnations
          spill their crimson autobiographies
I said:
          the ember is the master of fire
          the ember
          is its dust...
          Then I became confounded...
          what
          to offer...
          the master’s repulsive...
                     and delicious mouth
I am singed with happiness
endowed
with the stamps of hollowness
lips
dipped in counterfeit songs
a scented
morning and our faces...
          are spat out
          in handsome
                     editions...
          What

                     to offer

                                the master’s repulsive
                                delicious mouth

Translated from the Arabic by Khaled Mattawa.