I walk the edges of loss.
Some days touch me—
cold fingers
on the silver chain of old pain.
A poem flickers.
A lane.
Purple jarul.
Spring holding its breath
for you.
Barbed wire between us.
You know it.
You don’t cross.
Everything has limits.
Even the sky.
Are you chasing infinity—
or just flying a weak kite
against the wind?
My thirst is older than memory.
My chest—
a desert.
Love is the only water.
At night
I dream in fences.
Still
I keep walking
the edges.
@Musfiq us shaleheen
11.02.2026