Tanka # 210

She didn’t feel
the frost on her skin
until it melted
under the warmth
of his fingertips


مشّطتُ شعرها على مهل
وقبّلت الندى على كتفيها
ثم جلست بينما استلقت هيَ
وأمسكتُ القلم وسال الشعر
حبرا على بشرتها


Things break,
people die,
friends and lovers
go into the night
and return no more.


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