Upon his appearance, I lose my reins .. I lose my calmness .. I forget who I am and who I am when I am here. By his proximity, he makes me feel around me, and my gaze makes me uncovered in front of him. I look up to him, delving into the features of his laughter, which makes me feel safe and extinguishes the coals of my chest … You know safety, whenever I look at him, I look at someone who means more to me, what I mean, means shelter for me from my worries … I mean a chest that warms to shed my tears …
When he is there, I let my gaze steal from the beauty of his hazel eyes. In his eyes is a magic that detracts my tongue from describing it as a magic that carries within it the innocence of children, the vigor of youth and the power of men .. In his tender shadow I forget my sorrow. I forget my compulsion .. forget the world. He knows how much I love and respect him .. He is the first man who influenced me … and the first
A man agitated in my chest those virgin feelings … the first man to enter into my life the meaning of love, the meaning of sincerity, the meaning of sincerity, and meanings still only flow now in the veins of my body … No one before had love as I have now towards him ..
Oh, and a thousand, uh, from his whims, how much I love his bold words and looks, how I love his determination to go through life with its bittersweetness and from the clusters of his resolve I satisfied my patience, my determination, my boldness, my determination and even my spontaneity … He taught me how to be me and not someone else and how I am the one whose magic does not end in life until
I approached a strong life .. different .. I owned the keys to happiness and said: Go .. live in a palace embracing the clouds …. Weaving from strands of my hair meaning to be in this life .. meaning to live .. The more I see it the more proud of myself because it is part of my Arab body. … it is a rare coin in a sea that is uprooted and haunted by the like men …
I did not appreciate a man the way I did, and I did not love a man the way I loved him .. with his features weaving my ambition, my pride, my pride, my liveliness, so he made me a captive of that eternal magic whose buds have drawn unparalleled strength from his buds .. He knows from within that I do not see his crying in front of me A diminution of his manhood, but a purification of his lost and lost soul with endless labyrinths .. Whoever says a man’s tears are imperfect, this indicates the purity of his bed and the spontaneity of his eyes that do not hold grudges and do not close hearts with deceptive false covers and give myself a rest after their bruising and my eyes shine in their purity, so that the purity of their whites is mixed with intensity Its blackness .. His tears may be painful for my self, squeezing my soul and worrying my eyes, but I know with my own mind that he is fine and that he will rise again ..
I do not forget standing in the stages of my life .. I do not forget when he feels my lost soul .. he catches
With my hands firmly, then I feel the beating of his small heart like the beat of a newborn child who has come out to life and does not know what life holds for him, whether joys or sorrows at the time, I celebrate the return of my lost soul .. I look at him to find in those features that great man that I am looking for is the man whose name is engraved on My forehead since you are in the depths of my mother … But my pleasure is when the tender voice calls me that tender voice, which dances on its tones, the most beautiful whisper and the warmest when it calls my love …….