Over Here

Over Here

Over Here
(At Ona-ara)

Where we are is the capital city of darkness
where only lightnings, fireflies and moon
share them from their generous brightness.

Dust is a tyrant that governs all objects;
buildings, vehicles and feet are its long life slaves
and it’s aggrandized by the moribund roads in a season like this.

It was here I knew this season dries wells
what we know is how it exacerbates lips;
storex has held enough for us for decades there.

The weather wore freezing garb
as we went deeper into the abode of green-scarfed
it’s not unexpected— everything here is badly great.

Nobody remembers social-distancing over here
maybe people remember but abiding by rules isn’t their thing;
who abides by a food-chasing rule in the eyes of famine?

I look around and see scanty beauty on faces
someone said the fine girls don’t live in this area
the lifestyle is enough to clutch from those that have.

Here we are,
where living is a saltless dish;
we take it once in a while in the name of love.

 

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