“What is contentment?”
Onyx eyes plead expressionless query
Our minds tell us to find happiness within idolatries
But do you really want to embrace insects?
Is that the skeleton key unlocking contentment?
I should be content with understanding my dreams are not my own-
Blonde, wavy curls breathing life into blackened eyes
forced contentment with feigned alibis:
Arid evenings beneath Arab skies
What kind of life is that? Honestly.
while rhetorical questions scrape decency away…
You know- I’ve never been this nostalgic
of insects before.