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Ghazal 29 Gone are the shots of drunken nights unable to find joy in sleeping past noon I am dust infamous on my beloved’s street no longer a bird unwilling to fly Her footprints are welcome captors of tides the wave of her walking pulls blossoms behind her Every man bearing lust now names beauty his guide the way of the lover has shadowed the dawn My eyes have formed a veil for the beloved they scatter like children around her shadow |