Tuesday, July 08, 2014


Poetry, Jul '14
By Md. Gulrez

you said you were listening to my every word

but it was my silence which needed understanding

the fall and rise of my breath

the smell of my skin

the floating stares

the whirl in the cheek's pool

the dancing Adam's apple

the unshaven face

the dried lips

the hair on the forehead

the tapping of my feet

the stroke of my hands . . .

. . . were you really listening?

Md. Gulrez is a social development professional working on rural poverty.

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