anta habiibii
“She was made entirely of a sweetness bordering on tears.”
who are you? the girl asked in the fountain. she slipped in under the crescent moon with her dress off. she removed everything to speak to the stars. the cosmos cannot hear if you have baggage. the cats rolled in the dirt and even they washed before bedtime. the girl served the cats milk before she walked to the fountain. she only went during the waxing phase. the building phase when the moon transitions toward its fullest face. she couldn’t bear the full moon; it was too bright and blocked the backlog. the new moon, the black moon, was her favourite, but the horses were too anxious in that timeline so the girl stayed home to feed them from her palm. she opened her hand to all who asked. beggars and bullies, even. the fed the fountain all the masks she wore in the cold air. the wetness pulled the filth from her pores and the bugs sucked out what was left. residue is resistance, and the girl had one wish in the entire lifeline of her world. she wanted to be pure. she wanted to be free.
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