All About the Lens

When Windows Become Mirrors

Picture by Wajiha Haider

Look
What do you see?
The colors worn on the sunny gay days
By the prisms of your recollections?
Or the greasy imprints of hard times
Left behind like a stubborn glue
When the color papers are taken away,
Made into paperplanes for some other fortunate?
I ask you again
What do you see?
The windows shut, denying welcome
Or yourself, who broke open them.

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