Monday

from: fem
title: when looked from the sphere
form: poem

When looked from the sphere

When looked from the sphere
Is the shape the same
Perhaps
Heart, so-so
The sky over your head
But the earth is unable to see

Your scent passed from the street
Raised his head, the shoe-shine boy..
Boy named Ali
Shone on his face, the sky symphony
Did the sun shone at those narrow and dark streets
The cafe’s windows are steamy
A child approached
Holding a wet box in his hand
Asked ‘Would you buy gum, for my school pocket money’
I could not say I would not
I could say no
With a mischievous smile
He told me ‘Pay what you want’
Boy named Ali
His face blacker than black
His eyes beady and blue
Short pants
Old shoes
My hand in my pocket
In a vice
Is it my hand?
Or is it my heart
It’s a winter evening
There is neither rain
Nor the boy named Ali
Where is the sky of my youth
A lamp at the entrance of the street
The book store street