the world was ok
until man came
and started drawing
lines on the floor..
.
.
.
the world was ok
until man came
and started drawing
lines on the floor..
.
.
.
why
do I marry a woman
who never took care
of my heart?
why
do I keep an anxious lover
hidden inside the darkroom
knowing that her pigments
will soon fade
without light?
why
do I not feel the need
to feed the hunger of the self-righteous
who wrestles in territorial disputes not of their own
when our god of love knows no boundaries?
.
.
.