Sometimes water falls and leaves itself
like blood in the basin, staining.
That is when I remember, go out
of the silence I’ve created,
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Bats
By Nuar Alsadir
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The Garden
By Nuar Alsadir
There is no garden, there never was. The man who cuts the grass is stealing, making promises with his Miracle-Gro and reeling in the fish. I want to believe Already […]
Bats
By Nuar Alsadir
They live inside walls—not like you or the other rodents, but with wings and fangs, a clicking almost flamenco. And unlike you, they are not ashamed: Already have an account? […]
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