Overparted Poem by Jahid Onik
Overparted
Everywhere;You put your fingers
First the index, then the middle finger and later the ring finger;
What do you touch?
Over the unused floppy disk
On the top of the bookshelf
Inside the pen holder!
What do you touch?
What do you sense?
You touch the dust,
Dust of particle, the dust of light, the dust of wintertime.
And you touch a little body of yourself;
Your own passed and overparted life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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5/9/2024 1:48:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
touch the inner thyself there everything is integrated!