we remain silent
until a rare flute
startles us
you put on your glasses
and become distant
your voice
sounds stone cold
as you break the calm—
from now on we follow
parallel lanes
I have a weakness
for the dark hemisphere
you’re somewhere in the sun
waiting for that old flute
that strange twilight
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nice write, i really enjoyed the poem....
ReplyDeleteThank you Arslan. Thank you for your time. Smiles.
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