Poem by Laila Ali Haid
The kind time in the noon,
The timid motion to the sunrise before the bottles are finished,
Hard days in the garment we sewed,
The brackets of equality downpouring from hope,
The hard shoes in the weeping likeness to time,
My rights are seen in the envelopes of named attempts,
For love in liberty,
For graceful sweeping fears in the brocaded sheaths,
Itself drawn down the back,
It is repeated in the days of bleak sunrises.
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