Delilah,
why don’t you now
cut my locks of memories too?
In the dark they all come back,
every bit…
dense as the night.
When all the lights go to sleep
we grow our cropped hair
once again long.
The dust of your days
settles on my eyes
layers on layers.
But in your starved mind
philistine thoughts betray
all thoughts of us.
Good that my eyes are gouged out
for don’t we all today
gaze eyeless at Gaza.
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