Halsho Zangana (27-Jan-1994 / Kurdistan - Sulaimani)
You come, with the breeze of night,
and it is my corpus of candles,
you come, and ignite.
I see your soft skin, which reflects like the moon,
Altering the pitch dark
into a tenderized light.
You come like a legion of thoughts,
and you haunt, and still...
with images, words, dream and poems
my mind you refill.
So I hug a branch of words,
in the summer season of love,
and I pour it down on you,
knowing it's never enough.
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