Poetry

A Visit

By 
Moayed al-Rawi

When sleep weighs heavy on my eyelids, every morning,
A mysterious bird comes to knock
on my closed windows and pulled down shutters

The Illusion

By 
Moayed al-Rawi

The home we used to live in had become a cave

     smells like garlic

     covered with lime and dirt

The wind that enters our home is humid

     sticks to the body

     and the water is putrid, stinks, full of  poisonous  bubbles.

That's what you said to me

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