My Coy Afghan Doctor

Your fingers

And my trapezius

Your medical practice

An excuse

Between us

Your touch

And my neck

Your secrets

And my heart

Your stories of Herat

A night of trust

Between us

Your memories

And my chest

My adventures in Tehran

Your innocent laughter

My naughty serenity

The healing empathy

Between us

Your nostalgia

And my pain

Your sweet accent

Your Dari song

Your “Gardeshe Chashme Siah”

“The look in your black eyes”

Centuries of poetry

Between us

Your country

And mine

My body “wrapped in a dark dress

Like the moonlight through the silk of cloud”

My Afghan Doctor!

Your coyness

The damn border

Between us

Your body

And mine