the concubine and the bard

when dead inside, with patience, ink bleeds lifelong

scrolling screens, lifeless wits

borrowed time, open palms, regret fits

trails of words of wisdom wounding

whose source is sorcery

spelling is casting spells, palm reading

for writing is a dead man’s art

the long smeared remedy

where everything bleeds but a heart

nothing gets wet

white sheets, black eneuch dots

the impersonation fallacy of following great lives

you ain’t one, the one

along life cosplaying a long life, numb but alive

the epitaphs, a winding road in an old Ottoman cemetery

for the sultans that never ruled  

in the harems of our hearts

with patience, resurrect the dead inside

Image: Shalva Kikodze