- in the name of Allah -
shards of an echo, grasped once again though they cut in the palms, like a mollusk a starfish can't let go, it's dinner after all, dinner for the soul. might as well be breakfast and lunch too, digest the past and present to make futures worth forging new. the apartness at times gets so compressing, like trying to breathe deep while underwater and no means of venting. alas for the moments-in-between, hiding tomorrow from today, defining clouds not by their being gray, but by rain they might bring to wash over me.