Promise Me

. I  f    y  o  u    p  r  o  m  i  s  e

t  o    t  h  r o  w    m  e

t  h  r  o  u  g  h   t  h  e

h  o  o  p

 

t  h  e  n  ,   I  ’  l  l    p  r  o  m  i  s  e

t  o    h  o  p  e

I

fit

 

And I promise

I’ll stop

holding

my fat

 

and I’ll start

holding

myself

 

as soon as rooms

start having

cornerless edges.

 

And I promise

I won’t

hold myself

too hard

or

too gently

 

if you can stop

the clock

before it turns

19:00

 

Tell me,

Can you chew life up for me?

And feed it back to me?

Or, don’t.

 

You know how I hate the saltiness.

It dries me up.

 

Copyright notice:

© Zeinab Hassan Fawaz and Broken Dolls, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.

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