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My thumb draws circles on the mug,
Lost in confusion
I sit cross-legged on the prayer rug,
Waiting for a conclusion
The dungeon
The stars
The sky…
I play with the food that never tastes
I’m named, senseless…
I choke in the smoke without any haste
Conscience, has made me helpless…
The toes
The cut
The knife
I look at a child to find life.

 

Published in US Magazine Pakistan

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