ali ahmed | studio
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Poetry

WHITE STRING

September 1, 2014 – 11:45 pm – Washington, DC

 

The morning's cold is bitter

When you are not near.

It is your body's warmth,

From yester

That controls my shivering fear.

But only you tied, a string to my arm,

Put it on your heart,

To woefully drag me along.

Drilled me a kiss,

And strolled smooth sail.

When will you return,

With your steam

My warm bitter air?

Ali Ahmed