Panic
Never crossed my mind
When I get attached into wind's clothes
While it runs noisy in our courtyard home,
I'll stumble suddenly:
In filament spiders in upper door of home,
In my father's handprint on a table
In the smell of my mother's dress,
In bedroom
I'll stumble
In remnants of bread crumbs on table
In wailing' candles, rustle curtains,
In dark mirrors, dormancy seats'
In cobwebs in corners,
In clothing, shadows,
In every things
Night here in everywhere!
But I woke up dazed, on alarm clock,
Exactly, on completely death
Written by © Fatima Nusairat
Copyright © Fatima Nusairat | Year Posted 2014
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