BEHIND THE VEIL

We host ordeals

and conceal their edginess.

We nurse scars, 

wrap bandages around our hearts—

to heal,

smell their perfect aromas, alone.

There, our eyes are like sunken boreholes storing fresh mighty waters 

And when they begin to pour down, 

they come ceaselessly.

Our tears turn into stones and no one sees: 

we burry them.

Each day has its own sobs.

Behind the veil, our angelic eyes that seem glowing and perfect are red and puffy.

Behind the veil, there are teeth that are gnashing.

Behind the veil, there is always a war we wage.