Aurora: I Am Okay, Epilogue

By Fatima Hussein

Leave my hand 

I cannot keep one foot in your life while living mine 

see, I used to wonder if I was beautiful 

you would not let me dare to wonder all this wealth, 

counts to nothing, 

he cherishes me like I am made of violets 

and he plays she loves me, she loves me 

not 

his electric guitar painting mirrors 

in electric blue lights 

I do not think I have ever been more in love 

his grey sweater 

my tango dress 

it does not get more verite 

I am tired 

I am famished I am fuming 

we do not have a sense of time 

just an analogue that tells us our mood you called me an item-girl 

a song, a filler to ease boredoms 

but I was not camouflaging as decoration I was not an interlude 

I was the writer who wrote you 

here is the important part, 

since you always loved to have the last word 

you did not notice me blowing you a kiss as I left

By Fatima Hussein