“The night is out” by Sheikha A.

from behind moonshine curtains
peering down upon my closed eyes
to crop out dreams and replace
with vivid reminders of us; remade
memories that I shred the morning
after the night is out to torment
in retribution, tenfold, for daring
to forget this very night I used
to inveigle you to me. Immured,
my face has become a canvas
to the colours of your image
etched firmly over mine,
a second face over my first
tracking trajectories
of our time as together.

For more poems by Sheikha, check out FIVE Vol. 1 No. 6.