By Elena Hijazi | Junior Editor

Forgive me, lover, for I have sinned.

And melted on your tongue of swords like honey.

I turned your dust into molten skin,

And you turned my starry nights sunny.

You painted my rotten portraits gold

Like Midas, with your hands.

You wrote me things best kept untold

As you untangled my hair strands.

But Midas doesn’t know the taste of honey.

And I was born in winter; I don’t like it sunny.

From gold to rust and dust to dust,

just like the first man.

Forgive me, lover, for I have sinned,

And I can’t tell dust from sand.

The crown you wear of curls,

The eternal damnation that will never be retreated.

And the curse of your brown pearls

Launch wars upon the defeated.

My confessions are all I have to give.

So, lover, won’t you please forgive?

I’d stick this wood upon my chest

And drown my virtues down to rest.

I’ll forget my name and how to pray.

From my tight rope, I’d be led astray.

Forgive me, lover, for all my fraud.

You bring me closest to God.