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The joy of walking backwards

It has been one of these long moments..
Took the cab
I don’t dare to drive, when I leave my mind
under the door mat
I can’t recall the driver, or the talk or the road
But vivid is the awkwardness of my seat
The driving I guess was fast backwards
The traffic jams, and I don’t mind the heat
A cart rubs my shoulder
As I dance a crater under my feet

I remember as I step on broken memories
And  restored stairs
Of recovered history
I leaned on copper doors with blood streaks
On dreams and echoed screams
Of beheaded glory
I read the scribbles and deciphered graffiti
They talked back to me.. So softly

Six hours under the blazing sun
The exact same hours simmering
With the heat from the past
History is the cook of all well done
Memories, We can sit and savor thy

High above the years
Mamlouk building , Othmanly house and Fatimid street
Who shall surpass the  grandeur of my seat
Time to rest the back
on the shiny marble
With coldness that tingles the feet
The silence is lighter than the curtains
I think they were green

The coffee lounge is for me alone..
With love ,time could not defeat
Seats are cracked and dusty
Lizard crawled over the wall
my coffee has no taste except for the heat
No breeze but yet
The moment , that exact moment
Among all the history moments
Was  meant to remorse and please..

Another 6 hours , and  I
don’t recall what happened
Or care to recall
The clock hurrying  to skip  in 6 hours
Leaving a taste so freshly minty
A hang over,  a headache of flowers
sweaty and dusty yet pleasantly  tingly

I took a cab .. I must have
Speeding this time back home
My Fingers trembling with lust..
And dancing with joy
For they know clear like
This sliced moon..
That future from now on
Lies in the walking backwards ..