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You are Algerian.
You know betrayal closely
carry its open skies on your skin.

As a child, your father told you
that if you repeat a word several times
it loses its meaning
its gravity
so you’ve never been told ‘you are worth it’

On your sixteenth birthday
you decided that your body
couldn’t hold your secrets
you open up, let strangers
lick the untold stories out of your hands.
But light, also attracts predators.

Your mother makes you walk
because your feet are the only thing
you can stand on, even though
they don’t know the direction yet.

You smile
You show your white innocent teeth
and it is scary because you
were supposed to be guilty.

You are a flower in a graveyard
watching the dead , until, you too
are dead.

And I won’t pray, because I don’t know how to, but
God bless the day you drank enough to believe
that you are worth it.

 

[ Picture by Ibn Ibn Battuta ]

Thilleli G.

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Love story or Why people drink

At first, it felt like a prison

I made things blurry

Somehow it became a church.

 

You came in.

 

My native tongue is silence.

I made things blurry

Somehow you heard the echoes of love.

 

Nothing lasts.

 

I found out you’re leaving.

I made things blurry

Somehow your shadow stayed.

 

But shadows disappear by noon.

 

I was falling apart

I made things blurry

Somehow, I was enough.

 

Reborn.

 

The world is twisted

I made things blurry

Somehow the path looked straight.

 

Thilleli G.