Immature marriage

I dig the history of my blood,

and I see a teen with half head

and a hand.

A man rises

in search of house,

and she hides and hides

into the corner.

Mamma pushes her,

and granny with a kitchen knife

over herself.

The poor silence

is trapped in the midst.

Fathima Sanna

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4 thoughts on “Immature marriage

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