My body envies my eyebrows for the thinness They're blessed with , it rouses my hands in the stillness Of the night to pluck them , erase them in the dimness My body meditates on the sameness Of the space it wants to share with my eyebrows , aimless It wonders looking for the remedy of taking so much space , of not fitting in dresses of lace My body will pay more than twenty pounds for a map to that place They sell pills to match the size of itself with my face . Aya Bendechache
Pieces of the sun