The Walls of the Neighbor's Home in Mansoor

Moist damp walls
and frivolous cats used to
run their long tails
in the slits
between the hinges
of the doors

Now the creepers
run the windows
where bullet cracks capture
the smeared drops of last breath

And cold gardens of pain linger
where some wished they could have blended
with the weeping soil

Now it is...

Then it had laughed
when the sun tickled
its belly to beautiful mornings

Those days the palms will tell you
knew stories
that could warm sniffling infants to sleep
for hours if their mothers wished…

Those days the street lamps glistened
to the hum of love-making coming
from the rooms

Nights, under leaves
where toes grasped grass
and released
under stars
pushing swings
sharing thoughts of
Sameness
Oneness
Endless...

Then the walls stood strong
gathered us in
and guarded our thoughts
less they turn into sin...

Now they hide the hate
and remind

We no longer belong…