FAT'MA

Fat'ma

Spread out like a rug

So weary from a day spent blossoming 

And tending your nails 

You lie upon your dreams and float like a cloud 

The earth is anxious for morning 

That once more it may witness

Your little daintinesses 

Your speckles of blue pink 

As you weave in and out of your thoughts 

Wondering whether you are a flower or not.