
This canvas of mine
I will cherish it forever
It is unfathomed
And pure
A dreamland like no other
The angles, the curves
The points in which my anatomy intertwines
Braided into the outline of a crooked bay
As if it was improvised
My organs have different stories to tell
In the form of ailment and health
They try to overlook the affliction
Engraved with timeless damage
A whole system can be brought down by a minor contradiction
But it never ceases to manage
My body shares unconditional warmth with another
A mutual intuition
Of love and content
And propels me into wishing
Language was secondary to touch
No stutters
Sewn into my favorite patched bodysuit
Of shreds I had to restitch over time from buried treasure
And loose threads I play with for leisure
I am constantly reminded that I belong to dirt
I find parts of me folded in whatever circumscribes me
Tough to measure
The stardust flushing my skin
Takes me back to cold nights I spent under
gleaming skies
The altitude of my nose bridge
Is the way I view heavenly mountain highs
I stand in awe
As the tones on my sandy skin
Change from peachy on sunny days to bluish on others
With a simple shift of weather
The tears I’ve spent grieving for perfection
Permanence, and congruence;
I wish I could water earthy meadows with,
once dry
My obsessions and irrationalities
Composed of the finest mysteries and questions
Are of the same energy that keeps the universe very
alive
I keep on searching for the optimum
The spectrum is a never-ending spiral
Of change and adaptation
After untold trials
Harmony is my answer
It is what keeps me revived

Hela Shawa
Hela is a writer based in Beirut. Her love for analyzing social interactions and self-discovery drives her to tell stories through poetry. For Hela, writing is a constant challenge of forming an opinion, finding the right description, and finally letting it go on her writing Instagram account: @hela.writes, despite the uncertainty.