If You Give Me Your Eyes

by Amirah Al Wassif

If you give me your eyes,

you may become blind

But I swear I'll take care of them.

I'll wash them every night from filth and grief.

I'll keep them from agony and salty tears.

If you give me your eyes,

you won't see again


but I assure you that it is a little thing to lose.

I'll hang them on God's tree, and let them watch

all the directions of heaven and hell.


And they'll dig under the sacred tree with sense of humor and curiosity.


They'll figure out how to peek into the chest of the truth, without pretending that you are a learned man.

If you give me them, I'll take your eyes for a walk, we'll be stoned and delighted through our walking 


between God's arms

We'll laugh from the bottom of our hearts, we'll measure the distance between the awesomeness and 



If you lend me them, I won't give them back to you, how dare I?

While we're on our way to put the seeds of tomorrow.


If you give me your own eyes, I'll let you see my paradise where all the scientists set by their inventions looking in amaze, wondering how small their eyes to the eye of God.

Were they all thinking is that eye is the sun? Is that eye is the moon?

If you give me your eyes,


I'll knead them like the pugs, and I'll gather their ashes wrapped


in a precious kerchief, 


if you do that, I'll free your eyes from the darkness of slavery, and let them plunge in the brightness of


the horizon.


Amirah Al Wassif is a freelance writer, poet, and novelist. Five of her books are written in Arabic, and many of her English-language works have been published in various international literary and cultural magazines around the globe. Her English-language creative works have been translated into Spanish, Arabic, Hindi, and Kurdish.

More poetry by Amirah Al Wassif:

"If You Give Me Your Eyes" June 2020
"How I Washed My Heart" June 2020

© 2020 by Utopia Science Fiction

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