هل كان حبا يا ترى ام كان وهم الواهمين

Was it love or just an illusion of the delusional? Do you remember, my little one, or perhaps you don’t remember the five years that have passed, and nostalgia, longing, and dreams still haunt. Was it love or just a passing fancy? Did you really mean what you claimed, and I still remember a stray lock of hair above the forehead. And I still read between the lines, trying to understand some or not understand at all. The scent and whispers engulf me with the overflow of jasmine, your patterned handkerchief by its side, do you remember… remember what I meant to confess… and perhaps you have browsed.