The Fortune Teller

She points to a star
that shows you your other shadow.
You see in a single poem
the fact of God, the fact of earth
and everything between the two.

You see a dove
that sleeps like any vagabond
in crevices, or rides the lightning
until it rests in a blue cloud
moored on its own seas.

You seek a new map.
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Fu'ad Rifqa
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