Hawa

That day at night, dancing and crying, smiling and shouting; drinking the glasses of hope, sucking the happiness from the dust of the air.

Crawling on the dance floor closing my eyes and touching my dancing friends, jumping with them splitting bear on smiley faces.

What a great day! I still feel that volcano inside, when Cinderella wanted to go back, and I refused to go with her.

I couldn’t go! And I didn’t want to; I light up a cigarette and started to love her, I begged her to stay, the cigarette was slowly diminishing and leaving me, I sucked her to death, and then she turned into smoke leaving her butt with me.

In the other day, I opened the window smelling the dusty air of Riyadh, I ran to my jeans and found the cigarette filter.

My smiley face said: It was the last cigarette in Damascus.

With a wondering eye I stared at the horizon,and my empty mind didn’t know when to light up one again.