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Salma Maref
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Toward oblivion,
let not the mirrored notion
seep into a path but hers,
the map of time:
“impalpable”
before this genesis.
Assembling codes of existence,
a muse,
a surrealist,
frothy silence
and packages of romanticism,
to be traversed.
Beneath the eyelids
lain a destination,
and upon these curls,
the brush will ultimately learn
how to adore,
across the orbs…
