in your hands
in your hands
If I was not broken
not in my childhood nor in the dark
would I smile the same behind a wall of glass
give warmth to lashes or a cheek
or to the bottom
when eyes are closedIf I was not who I became
could I give love, without a story
without a shell above a mourning soil
like a searching sea in an homeless mirror
a wave to touch
a bird to feedcould I be the gate or
one letter of recognition
just before the moment you moveif I was not broken
between the sky and the water
the tidings of our worldand every knot I bare
voor C.
kerima ellouise©



















