• Maryam Ghouth

Behind Closed Doors

Updated: Oct 11


Like green hands blest,

they grow twig to seedling

in the dying hedge

of the depressed,


and with the sun at their backs,

cup the light on their shoulders

and convey it to strangers

on the edge,


yet


like a shadow that never leaves,

block the light from entering

their kindreds’ blue chests


with their fists and lust for incest.


The Poet Magazine, August 2022

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