I felt like a wind

trapped in a sail

or a burning cigarette

forgotten on the ashtray

I spent the whole night unveiling

the old wound that was bleeding

again on the scattered sheets


I will not soon forget the way

I was driving on the road,

under the misty weather of the Gulf War

The way the barbed wires tore off my thoughts

right after you passed the soldiers

and they yelled at me to stand farther away


You should have backed home

I wished you could carry your home-

wherever you want- on your back like a turtle

or at least you could adapt yourself

to another home but you told me

I am not a hermit crab who uses the shell of a sea snail


I won’t soon forget how

after I had roasted my dreams

over an open ceasefire,

a mailman-not older than 40 springs-

handed me an envelope with a big red stamp

and told me “the recipient was not found




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