When the call to prayer soundsand the sun’s about to rise,my thoughts restlessly dissectthis sorrow, that guilt, old lies. “I can’t keep up”, I say,“slow down and stop the mumbling!”But they answer with obtuse eloquence,lingering, rolling, and tumbling. How lucky I find those people,who are right now asleep.Their heartbeats slow and steady,their dreaming calm andContinue reading “An Insomniac’s Morning Hours”
A collection of my writings. A spool of thoughts undone.
Beisan's Burble 