Ten losses

First to loose is your mask
Then a bike
Then that house that raised you as a kid,
wet dreams that made you feel big.

Fourth is your name,
Then a gate,
Then that paper they gave you when you fell,
for a crush whose gait brought you thrill.

Seven is your knee,
Bent back on garbage heaps,
For the pain makes you feel old and beat,
in system whose laws gave your waist beads.

Eight is that speed,
Lost memories, then forgotten babies,
and the sense of loss because of grief,
for a loved one that did bring you heat.

Last to go will be your feet,
Broken promises in simple patterns,
In a month or two they'll brings you seeds,
old visions and tired dreams

Faith does count indeed.

***

Zamalek, Cairo, Egypt
Feb 2020