My Rib

Oh your face, and it's light that emanates from it a far. Further brightened by each star, on each side of it- two; known as your eyes. Oh your face and it's, grace.

Oh your hair, although my yearning eyes are not whitenesses to it, and it's sleek silky softness. I can only imagine it dancing in the wind, flawless.

Oh your voice, and its gentle arrival at my ears, soothing. It's sound: unique, powerful, joyous, cooling. If only you knew the smile on my face, when I hear your voice.

Oh your laugh, echoes in my ears. The memory of your laugh remains sealed in my mind, years. When I am scared, that memory drives away my fears.

Oh your lips, and their seductive calmness. No doubt, the best curve on a woman's body is her smile. Your smile, gorgeous.

Oh your height, are you surprised I would mention such a thing? Yes! Your height, not too short and beneath my shoulders; just right.

Do you know that Allah created the woman from the man- his rib? Above his waist, to be equal to him; below his arm, to be protected; next to his heart, to be loved.

If one girl was created from my rib
that girl was you.