“كان ينبغي لي أن أمتنع. كان ينبغي لي أن أصمت. كان ينبغي لي أن لا أكتفي. أن أقول نعم على مضض. أن أردّد شكراً. وأتمتمها مطولاً. أن لا أحدّق في وجهك طويلاً. أن أدير وجهي بسرعة. أن أرتشف قهوتي ببطأ. أن أنظر داخل الفنجان. وأن أنده “ولكن”.كان ينبغي لي كل هذا كي أحبك. وكي أذهب الى ليلك بقلبٍ صاخب وجسدٍ يرقص، كان ينبغي لي أيضاً أن أعيد ترتيب الوقت على طريقتي.”

“I will be waiting for you at the end of every blind alley, under the lonely streetlamps of a city that will no longer be ours.When the wind grows colder and the huge piles of settled leaves sit there for a week or two, unshielded from the curious gaze of passersby, I will be waiting for you.I will be waiting for what could have been and for what will never be;For the letters that never arrived, the letters that were never sent, and the letters that will never be written.”

“كيف ليَ أن أكتب قصيدة تخدش وجه العالموتدير دفّة القمر؟”

“How can I begin to tell you how much I miss you without using those three common words that can’t even start to express the magnitude nor the depth of my emotions. How can I write in my own blood while wanting to revert its color. The color of blood is similar to “I miss you”. It has been raped by writers and lovers constantly, ever since Cain and Abel. I want to be able to create a new alphabet that can simply stand in front of you without bowing. I want to use new metaphors that would erupt like volcanoes between the phrases of my readers’ souls. Metaphors such as your absence is similar to eating salt straight from the shaker while thirst is devouring my tongue. Metaphors such as the lack of your presence is like being straddled behind the glass of my own senses.”

“How many times were you born, after your birth date … And how many times, have you died?”

“There are nights that ask rhetorical questions. There are nights that demand immediate answers. And then, there are nights, where you forget your own name… There are nights where you lose conscience of where your body ends or begins….Those are my favorite.”