Yana Djin

Rookie (09/21/1969)

War

The woman sucking on a stone
imagined that it was a Persian nougat ball.
And she sucked on it with
the oblivion of a child left alone.
There - nothing was mild.
Each blade was a prick.
Each glance - a cut.
That's if you still had a gut
with which to feel or fear.

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