Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Salma

IMAGE

Stepped on in the dark,
The cockroach was crushed
To pulp. All night,
An army of ants have
Marauded its flesh,
Leaving behind the carcass to show me
The novel sight of myself
With wings that can no longer rise in flight
And stick legs — no longer of use
            

IMAGE

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IMAGE

Stepped on in the dark,
The cockroach was crushed
To pulp. All night,
An army of ants have
Marauded its flesh,
Leaving behind the carcass to show me
The novel sight of myself
With wings that can no longer rise in flight
And stick legs — no longer of use
            

IMAGE

Stepped on in the dark,
The cockroach was crushed
To pulp. All night,
An army of ants have
Marauded its flesh,
Leaving behind the carcass to show me
The novel sight of myself
With wings that can no longer rise in flight
And stick legs — no longer of use
            
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