White Poem by Medea Kali

The cursed streets of Beirut,
The city that knows neither night nor day
The two entwine into a perfect blend
Of continues euphoria for those who seek it
Perpetual melancholy for those who refuse it

Driving the cursed streets of Beirut
Creatures, imitations of life passing us by
As we stare into the nothingness ahead
Death staring back with her open arms
Seducing us with her glazy eyes
Her expensive skin floating atop of the windshield
Haze of the divine fruit in my eyes
I stare back into her eyes
I kiss death on her mouth
The skies above, clouds prancing drunken
Insanely petting one another
We drive fast, blood on my clothes
Haze in my eyes
Kissing death on her mouth
Then comes life
He whispers in my ears delicate words
Of tenderness and love
I wander the greenery of Beirut
And float the cool-flowing rivers of the city
And I, in my inglorious existence, am happy.