In her eyes I found my land,
the cradle of my childhood.
in her gaze I was reborn.
It was before her eyes that my tired shoulders
spilled their sorrows,
turning into ink,
that her dark circles drew.
It was in her mirror eyes
that I dislocated myself,
the instant of a smile
bringing me back
from a distant journey
that her eyelids held.
(c) Moustapha Chein
Montréal,
30 Octobre 2023

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