Ghazal: My Daily Thoughts

I look out the window watching the stillness of the night; it’s dark.

I imagine the things I don’t and wish not to imagine in the dark.

Intrigued by the artists I am obsessed with: VanGough, Kahlo, and Dali.

Take in every stroke and every form they all ended painting something dark.

My mother walks in to the kitchen and begins to raise her voice telling me to clean.

Since I was a child, she has always spoken with a demanding tone making her sound dark.

I wake up and put on a black shirt, black pants, black socks, and black hair tie.

I take a last glimpse at my attire before I leave and realize I’m always dressed dark.

Eliana, my niece, is growing, and now she is 6 months, half a year.

I look at her and feel warm, but I can’t help to remember her mother making me feel dark.