Gate by gate
I counted eight
Shut they were
As gusts murmur
Only one
At night was run
So in I went
My body bent
It was fear
of Man and Djinn
I rinsed my hands
And wiped my feet
Ceiling torn
Cold still—walls worn
It was my fort
And my comfort
Jan 5, 2024
Jan 5, 2024 at 2:28 AM UTC
Gate by gate
I counted eight
Shut they were
As gusts murmur
Only one
At night was run
So in I went
My body bent
It was fear
of Man and Djinn
I rinsed my hands
And wiped my feet
Ceiling torn
Cold still—walls worn
It was my fort
And my comfort
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