Rumor in the World

When your cheek let its dark curls fall over the rosy skin, it stripped me of myself and made my name a rumor across the world. Before I could describe even a single strand of your hair, my heart tied a thousand knots on the tip of my tongue. Your mouth spoke of me as something frail and slight, and it made me truly doubt whether I even exist. You keep drawing the bow of your brow back to your ear, hoping to bring down some prey wherever one can be found. The seduction of your hair drew my words out long, then your lips slipped in a fine, subtle point of their own. No wonder that, faced with your face and brow, the moon dropped its shield and, in defeat, laid down its bow. Whatever Obeyd kept hidden of the secret of his love, his tears have flung it out onto everyone's lips.