in the escape of myself, I found myself

my nomadic ways

wished for a secluded hut

to wander to

smelling of wet earth

and dried palm fronds.

the make-shift shelter

my get away from myself.

precious time alone with myself

to escape myself.


I set my heart straight

pointed towards east

where the sun would rise

and asked for directions.

she tried to leave.

circling the yurt –

once, twice, thrice

in succession –

tangling the tie of us,

but we are bound

by that silver chain.

I may allow her slack,

drapping links dragging on dirt

in wander

when I will return to her.

I will never leave her


my freedom only comes

when we merge as one.

metal leashes left coiled

and she soars.


I, as her believer.

she, as my guide.


we travel stars.



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