in front of my mother and my sisters,
i pretend love is cheap and vulgar.
i act like it’s a sin–
i pretend that love is for women on a dark path.
but at night i dream of a love so heavy
it makes my spine throb–
i dream up a lover who makes love like he is separating salt from water.

Salma Deera, “salt” (via writingwillows)
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