The Quiet Space!

The skin of my hands are pink, pulsing and in pain. There is not much to say. The bleach odor has occupied the quiet space, screaming sharply. Zeitoon and I are huddled together, perhaps in an attempt to escape this frightful image of loneliness. The house is clean. My hands are empty. There is not much to say!

The Mysterious Logic of Shadows!

The mysterious logic of shadows has taken over the light,
the light that danced over your eyes,
the eyes that took me in as if I belong,
the belonging that was delicate to my being,
the being that is lost in the search of the mystery; the mysterious logic of the shadows!