And what is this blue anyway, my darling,
when we think of
our fingers tangled,
eyes chasing the cirrus clouds
and feet roaming into a territory
where you and I are free?
What are these
sequestered days
against
the endless cups of teas
and conversations
that bind us into dreams stretching across the skies?
Why all the misery,
when you and I will always be we?
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on what life meant to make out of faith
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Mamu touched my hair the other day and said: This is not the hair of the girl I birthed. What did you do to your hair? I touched my hair, im... -
i cannot imagine how you put up with a man who drags you by your nape and tells you to go to your room and puts you out in the night. it...
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