Dance Without Shawl Poem by Ilham Q Moehiddin

Babies in the cradle leaves a thin snoring Aloivera, until the sun to write love on a thin smooth skin. Put the nipple of earth to touch their tiny mouth, then you are covered should come down and watch, after the roar of aborting the prayers of the sky, we swore allegiance to each other at the end of the lips. Cymbals sounded, took off following the departure of loneliness. Pantiros peeling moss in a dry tree trunk before the drought came molt. Who are the people who swore before God alone? Whether they are knocked down by the fire Manat? Covering numbers with rugs, slippers adorned his feet with the Trojans, respecting his own head with the most ancient falsehood. I began to count heads. You go to powder your face with clay, and we did not seem in line, oh. I, perhaps more worthy of waving scarves in beautiful daughters who got off the train, their feet wet with the essence of roses, and put the babies in their womb. It looks like we had ever met at the door of the city, oh, right before your gut. Me, the giver a stamp on the last message, you wrap the flowers to my neck.

Kendari, January 16,2012)