End Game?

again, history repeats.

Some have at first for wits, then poets pass’d.  // Turn’d critics next, and proved plain fools at last.


    A longing I felt
    for far too long.
    One that had my
    soul dream of
    comforting it’s
    blistering frost,
    with no more
    than wrapping
    itself around
    your warm body.

— Mustafa Tatan

Author: Anna Bidoonism

Poems, prose & literary analysis—this is who I am.

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