Made of skin and bone
she rose from another woman.
They stab their toes
and drum their fingers
till she is pushed down
the drain.
She sculpts her life
with blood and stones
all day
and cries into her soul
when the world is asleep.
She shuts her eyes close,
closets her ears
But the world screams
for her to stop.
But little does it know
she is a woman of flames.
A flame that never dies.
– Mariyam Mirdadzai haga clic aquí
