Fariha’s Reviews > Call Me Ishmael Tonight: A Book of Ghazals > Status Update
Fariha
is on page 80 of 84
When the last leaves were birds,stuck wingless to branches,
the wind glass-stormed the season you'd left me to cry in.
All is his—Sleep,Peace,Night—when on his arm your hair
shines to make him the god whom nothing effaces
Stranger,when the river leans toward the emptiness,
abandon,for my darkness,the thick & thin of light.
If you leave who will prove that my cry existed?
Tell me what was I like before I existed?
— Aug 05, 2023 10:12PM
the wind glass-stormed the season you'd left me to cry in.
All is his—Sleep,Peace,Night—when on his arm your hair
shines to make him the god whom nothing effaces
Stranger,when the river leans toward the emptiness,
abandon,for my darkness,the thick & thin of light.
If you leave who will prove that my cry existed?
Tell me what was I like before I existed?
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Fariha’s Previous Updates
Fariha
is on page 15 of 84
Summers raced to autumnal lands to bedew things.
...
Water drops on the burner its sizzling red pearls.
Moonlight, nude on the apricots of Gilgit, shines.
...
Forgive me, please, could we be alone forever?
...
Our silence, Beloved Enemy, is not beyond
whatever love has done to your word, to my word.
...
I am mere dust. The desert hides itself in me.
Against me the ocean has reclined from the start.
...
— Aug 03, 2023 11:43PM
...
Water drops on the burner its sizzling red pearls.
Moonlight, nude on the apricots of Gilgit, shines.
...
Forgive me, please, could we be alone forever?
...
Our silence, Beloved Enemy, is not beyond
whatever love has done to your word, to my word.
...
I am mere dust. The desert hides itself in me.
Against me the ocean has reclined from the start.
...
