Friday, August 24, 2012

if there is a room inside of me
with your name written in it
the language it is written in is a lovely one.

one of figs and birds

and beaches the color of butter.

the walls blue, and at least one of them

made from nothing but windows.

another has shelves of speckled stones

the light pours across the floors

and the trees outside

burn with song.

anis mojgani, untitled

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