Status Updates From The Music of Human Flesh (A...
The Music of Human Flesh (Arab authors) by
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Edita
is on page 41 of 72
Once my heart was a blue bird, O nest of my beloved.
The handkerchiefs I had of yours were all white. They were, my
love.
What stained them that evening?
I do not understand at all, my love.
— Nov 01, 2023 09:18PM
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The handkerchiefs I had of yours were all white. They were, my
love.
What stained them that evening?
I do not understand at all, my love.
Edita
is on page 19 of 72
For me it's essential to reject death,
Even though my legends die.
I am searching in the rubble for light, for new poetry.
Oh, did I realise before today
That letters in the dictionary, my love, are stupid?
How do all these words live?
How do they increase? How grow up?
We still nourish them with memories' tears,
With metaphors - and sugar!
So be it.
— Oct 31, 2023 10:55PM
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Even though my legends die.
I am searching in the rubble for light, for new poetry.
Oh, did I realise before today
That letters in the dictionary, my love, are stupid?
How do all these words live?
How do they increase? How grow up?
We still nourish them with memories' tears,
With metaphors - and sugar!
So be it.
