Feed Me Diamonds

I’m here if you want to

hang me up and bleed me,

my love for you, it’s simple,

blindness  . . .

hypnosis  . . .

In the silence, as usual

it’s useless to resist

You do what you want to:

feed me diamonds,

feel my body shaking,

swollen like a hurricane,

bite at the tips of my fingers,

frozen in prison

under your sugar halo.

I read him my confession,

and here is my sin:

I water the roses,

and take off my clothes.

It’s like this,

I believe in you,

so come on, lie to me,

hold me, drop me, let me go,

feed me diamonds  . .

I love you, so

don’t leave me  . . . please  . . . .

feed me diamonds  . . . . .


I learned today that the American Museum of the Bible in Washington D.C. does not contain Arabic versions of the Bible (thank goodness for scholarship!). This was a real disappointment to me, for the image of Christ and his martyrdom is a powerful one for Arab Christians and Muslims alike. On the other side of the world, in my ancestral homeland Iraq, a statue of the virgin Mary was removed from a public square in Basra, as it was considered a liability for causing tension between people.

I wrote this poem earlier this summer, I hope it channels some of the love, pain, and devotion that Christ demonstrated and demanded for God and humanity. Here is my performance of the poem in two parts.

I love you so much

I love you so much

I feel nothing now but then i remember

the ache

it confuses me

i want it so much

the shame of your gaze

your love leaves a bruise

a stain blotted on my heart

all I want is you

to tame me with your calm touch

to press generous lips

on wet skin. i melt

in white linen

wicked gentleman

or gemini twin:

i won’t question

ill let you win.

dark emperor –

it’s your right

neptunian king

your knight

my god

i won’t say a word

i’ll bleed deep crimson

you’ll slake from my tears

and i won’t make a sound

i can’t hardly move…

i can’t feel the ground…

August 19, 2017 14:55 Harlem