Shams, someone stole your name.
I heard it in the plasma,
not whispered but spoken
so casually just as if there were
no shame at all in this
interconnectedness.
Shocked again at how we braid,
perhaps born of the same star
cluster.
That must be it.
Does he even know just how
long you have been with me,
Shams?
I am haunted by people,
but not interested in drama.
Sometimes I think I am carrying
the seeds of a child in me,
and he says to me,
don't be afraid, choose whatever
gives more life, not less.
This is a blog of some poetry I wrote at different times. Mostly it's about my broken heart.
Monday, October 25, 2010
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