The Summer I lived as a Wolf
I knew the names of stones at the river mouth, crossed giving thanks to their uneasy spirits. I heard killings in the shadows, knew to turn keen and quick, travel in the presence of  thunder, leave no scent or spoor behind. Preferring the high places closest to the moon where the wind ran with me, I practiced abandon, my spine a scimitar, star-whetted, flayed old disguises into strands and rips, underneath I was sleek, open: my muzzle carved air into four queendoms and I knew them all as they knew me, tooth, soul, tatterdemalion heart, and I flew, I think, in that time, when nobody needed or shamed me and I was always hungry, bloody-tongued but louche and free and supple, perfumed in pine and ashes.
2020-12-05 22:41:27
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وردةٌ قبِيحة
و مَا الّذي يجعلُ مصطلحُ الوردة قبِيحة؟ -مَا الّذي تنتظرهُ من وردةٍ واجهت ريَاح عاتية ؛ وتُربة قَاحلة و بتلَاتٍ منهَا قَد ترَاخت أرضًا ، مَا الّذي ستصبحهُ برأيك؟
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Why?
I was alone. I am alone. I will be alone. But why People always lie? I can't hear it Every time! And then They try to come Back. And i Don't understand it. Why?
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