Hakeem Rahim


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The Check

The death-threat of love,
folded neatly in an envelop.

Left wind and left field and left at altars
a sacrifice to dead virgins

Flowers placed in vases

Half of a spirit encircled by catacorner rooms

I danced around this moment for years,
this day is hear.
pardon me if I could not listen to my soul.

[Hata Bildir]