from an ice desert
reflections and notes to self
Friday, December 30, 2016
my life
exquisite.
like dream of an infant,
leading to smile and tiny chuckles.
will I or anyone remember it.
Tuesday, December 06, 2016
bitumen
At the end of the day,
add sadness,
like bitumen
to the lungs of the tiny birds
fighting to stay afloat.
Or a child
crying over the body of his father
asking not to be left
to stand alone
(in Syria)
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