love letter to a city

tripoli, i cannot sleep,
i have to be honest with you,
tonight, i miss you like an ache

i miss the way your streets cradled me,
the way your wind whispered sweet-nothings
in my ear, the way your ancient ruins romanced me
i even miss your gutters
power lines criss-crossing between apartment buildings,
and the boys who lean against them, forgetting to lower their eyes
i miss the way you smell, like my aunt’s perfume, sea water, open air
and something i’ve never felt with anyone else

i dream about your voice,
soft and bustling, dispersed with
sounds of cars and calls to prayer

do you remember the weddings we went to?
the ride home was always my favorite part,
you’re so beautiful at night

scarf clutched to face, windows down
your radio would sing abdul-halim
to me, i can’t help it
my heart beats faster when i’m with you

i miss your old city,
and your gold shops,
and your parks
i miss your restaurants,

we’ve been apart too long,
i’m beginning to seriously rethink this separation
was i wrong?
for thinking i could leave you for longer than a year?

i can’t get work done,
i keep daydreaming
about your streetlights,
this isn’t healthy
i didn’t expect whirlwind
romances to take up so much
of my time

i hear you’re busy now,
you’ve changed a lot,
aren’t the same city
you were before

maybe you don’t have time
for old names and rekindling flames,
but i miss you
i don’t know how to put it more simply than that

i don’t know if you want me back

but i’m coming for your rooftops,
and your orange sands,
your bazeen, and your adhans 

i’ll see you in the summer,
right when you start to become
unbearably hot, because like it or not,
you’re my first love,
and i just can’t let go that easy

but for tonight, i’ll settle
for dreaming of your shores,
your souqs and stores,
your sands and your skies,
and i’ll close my eyes
and pretend it’s your waves
rocking me to sleep tonight.

love,
a girl from tripoli