Mali Huriye

Trapped in mirrored halls
all fingers point out, and in,
to and fro, back and forth,
withering as flowers in winter.

Darkness in the reflections
binds all but the upright,
as others stumble and fall
into the bleak of abyss.

Desperate hands cling to the
copper rolls they keep hidden
pocketed like a weapon,
wrapped up in scarred fist.

Trapped in this mirrored hall
I point out, at myself.

mali-huriye

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