nadia abduljabbar (25/5/1957 / Makkah)
Stranger we met,
Stranger we depart,
Warm is my hand,
Colder is my heart,
Sad it is not,
Nor it should be,
For losing ecstasy,
When our eyes meet,
For not being melt,
Nor overwhelmed by
Your presence when you pass by,
It feels no more happy,
When it sees your extra ordinary
You are not my future nor present,
But only a part,
As a whole not a half,
I began to myself
You were once,
For some seconds,
The most beautiful part
Of my sad, dead past.
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