There's something about your air
that makes my soul cling to you...
It's raining here,
it's raining acid and shrapnels...
In February,
there is tenderness in the air...
Where you are, it's probably dark
and the screams of others are the...
Hurry up.
They're here...
I know that this is just too ugly to
be called a 'poem' but I felt better...
I once stressed the sun
to the corner of your...
I will lay you;
a wounded gazelle...
How trite it would taste
if I begin to paint you in blue and white...
And then she sighs
and says in a shaking voice...
It's been six years, one month
and fourteen days since the last...
We're amidst the crazy
city; October dimness, women with...