Tuesday, July 5, 2011


"I asked, and they said
the branch swathed in flame is a sparrow.

They said my face was the waves
the world's face, a pile of mirrors, a lighthouse & the sailor's sorrow.

I arrived and the world in my way was ink,
each gesture a phrase

I did not know that between it and me was a bridge called brotherhood,
made of steps, prophesies and fire.

I did not know that my face is a ship
that sails inside a spark."


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