Both are gripping so hard onto something dead (black lace), living in the memories, surviving on hopes of resurrection. Each of them left a mark on each other (Flowers and the castle)…but they are drifting apart…two strangers sharing a bed.
Inside each body figure is a poem of mine in Arabic that can be translated to:
Female body: She turned around, hoping to see some rubbles of their love…then she turned, hoping to see in that body, anything that would bring life to her petrified heart…wishing to hear a heartbeat in this cold bed…but…she sighed with frustration as there is not a single glimpse of light
Male body: With every tick of the clock in those long lonely nights…with every tick, another brick, another brick falls from the shrine of his love to her, another dying cell in his heart, another cell in his brain washes away, as her memory fades…till his heart turned to stone, and her memory melted in the folds of his brain…her body touching his while his soul grieving their beautiful days.
Inside each body figure is a poem of mine in Arabic that can be translated to:
Female body: She turned around, hoping to see some rubbles of their love…then she turned, hoping to see in that body, anything that would bring life to her petrified heart…wishing to hear a heartbeat in this cold bed…but…she sighed with frustration as there is not a single glimpse of light
Male body: With every tick of the clock in those long lonely nights…with every tick, another brick, another brick falls from the shrine of his love to her, another dying cell in his heart, another cell in his brain washes away, as her memory fades…till his heart turned to stone, and her memory melted in the folds of his brain…her body touching his while his soul grieving their beautiful days.
30x48In acrylic on canvas with lace
