shot glass
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Hashim Khan



I don't peel off traces of you
off the sidewalk like I used to.
The wild alluring mystery in your eyes
Lives in a glance.
No longer do I wait for it to rot
Till you and I
Find solace in rolling dynamites under each other's doors.
Your arm is not a zither
I can string music out of.
Two artists that no longer sign their work to each other's name.
Neither one of us mourns.
Sometimes at night, I hear something faint in the living room, tapping
on our window
but it's just the sky weeping flakes of snow.