A woman mooching in the shade
Temperature forty centigrade
Through the late evening hours’ passway
To the next rusty day
Under a cloud of enriched plutonium
Lonely in the squalid heat
No one’s around
Some were dead
Some’d fled
Trying to make it to the next millennium
Crying for fun
And handing their tears to tourists
For souvenir
* * *
Listening to your fears swallowed by silence
You cried on the inner side of your eyeballs
Rheums ran slowly into your blood stream
A hidden river, silent, without a single scream
Secretly flows behind your body walls
* * *
Put your body into a bottle and throw it into the ocean
Could it be set free one day
On another shore and sand
By a different woman’s hand
* * *
Alike, all of us
Copies standing in a row
We kiss through filters
Embrace through cellophane
Hygienic measures
But fear is always safe and okay
We inherit sterility from both our parents
And stare joyfully dissected
At the sterile brave new world
Just coming through
Z. Azzabi
