Sleep

Sleep

Sleep
Say nothing
Thank you
Where does this pain come from
Here I am
Wait

tossing at your feet
the knowledge I have gained
from my mistakes.
I waited for your arrival
and picked at my soles
for meaning.
What good is this step
or that step?
This is how
I became stranded
in the mud of modesty.

AuthorFaraj Bou al-Isha
2018-08-21T17:23:34+00:00 January 1st, 2003|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 30|0 Comments