Poetry — Verses by Abul Bashar Arman

The rain here does not know my name,

but it falls the same,

on windows that were built

by hands that never held mine.

The clock forgets to strike,

the city forgets to breathe,

and I — I remember everything

I promised to forget.

A king is only lonely

when the queen has moved away.

I have been every piece

on both sides of the board.

Some borders are drawn on maps.

Others live in the ribs.

I have crossed the first with ease,

and the second I am still learning.

If silence is a language,

then I have written you volumes.

You will find them, one day,

in the margins of a book you loved.

We were almost a beginning.

We were almost an ending.

In between, we were the most honest

either of us has ever been.