i look out of my window, assuming that you are looking out of yours at the same time. as if our sight is penetrating through these mazes of towers and buildings, and we are looking directly at each other. but in front of me there are two sunflowers, a song whose name i know not … Continue reading assuming


Thoughts on a wheelchair

On this wheelchair, I sit And look upon the grass From my window pane While knitting words Into poetries. I'm eighty-seven Ancient and fragile With ebbs over my skin And folds on my body. I wear roses And a sunflower or two. Only yesterday, I was fifty-three Combing my hair into a bun With a … Continue reading Thoughts on a wheelchair