let’s wear only colours
that resemble sea or sand –
bleached, body-warmed
linen is only calm
when ironed –
feverish when creased
heated together, we can make
enough art to last
decades of dullness
promise me a soft life,
a crackling fire
that spits its wants –
urging us to deepen
our laughter, unbutton
our restraint
i have always fantasised
over living in the
meaning of batwanes beek*,
always thought play
keeps life sweet
promise me we will hang
a portrait of Venus
on the stairway wall,
her ringlets seeping
into our cream-coloured home,
amber-loud against the plain,
the grace of her hand,
resting on her bosom,
you hide behind the caressing curtain,
as the sun light presses on the velvet drapes
promise me every indecency
is right here, untucked,
unpunished – that i don’t
need to hide the subtle
violence of Eve, her hunger
her open mouth
undressing only happens
in love – everything we wear
clings tight to our awkwardness
when the paintings chip,
my eyes wrinkle, you do not have
a way with your hands,
erotica will have its way
we will bless our frailness,
our messiness
we will paint our bodies
with clay, sun-baked,
sacred with our shape
*batwanes beek is a famous arabic song by warda.
a portrait of Venus on the stairway wall, her ringlets seeping
Maryam Alsaeid
Three Questions for Maryam
What inspired your choice of genre(s) and or form(s) for your work?
I was drawn to poetry because it allows me to hold multiple emotional states at once, innocence, desire, softness, and tension, without needing to resolve them. The fluidity of the form mirrors the way I experience romantic love, not as something linear, but as something layered and felt. My work is inspired by a long standing fascination with romantic love, particularly the way it exists both as fantasy and as something deeply embodied. When I visited 'The Birth of Venus' in Florence, I was struck by the delicacy of her form, her softness, her modesty, and yet the quiet presence of desire. Poetry felt like the most natural way to translate that visual and emotional experience into language.
What was your creative process?
The poem began with an image, Venus on the stairway wall, and the desire to build a life around that image. From there, I wrote intuitively, allowing the domestic space, textures, and colours to emerge, linen, clay, velvet, sea, and sand. I was interested in creating a world that felt both aesthetic and lived in, where love is not only imagined but inhabited. The process involved layering, returning to the image of Venus, repeating it, and allowing it to evolve alongside the relationship being imagined. Editing was about refining the balance between tenderness and intensity. I wanted to preserve the softness of romantic fantasy while also allowing moments of disruption, Eve, hunger, indecency, to surface within it.
What is the significance of this work to you?
This work feels like an articulation of a fantasy I have carried for a long time, the desire for a soft, romantic life that is both beautiful and emotionally expansive. It reflects my relationship with love as something I have imagined deeply, even before fully living it. At the same time, the poem acknowledges that love is not purely gentle. There is desire, tension, and even a subtle violence within it. The presence of both Venus and Eve speaks to this duality, innocence alongside hunger, grace alongside something more instinctive. The work is significant to me because it allows these contradictions to coexist. It becomes a space where romantic idealism is not dismissed, but expanded, made fuller, more honest, and more human.
Maryam Alsaeid is a poet with an MA in Creative Writing, tutored by Carol Ann Duffy and Andrew McMillan, and most recently, she has been mentored by Julia Webb. She designs workshops that help women use poetry for healing and self-discovery. Published in Eche, Wildfire Words and a regular performer at literary events, she is currently writing a collection of love poems inspired by old Arabic songs.