Author: M. Aan Mansyur

Summary:is my heart a broken shallow bowl—one so easy to fill, yet impossible to fill up? does loving oneself mean being a stone thrown into a bottomless ocean? why is blood more fire than fire itself? why don’t wounds forgive knives—& blades can imagine themselves as mirrors? why must we possess much knowledge to understand how little we know? why do people in the city lean on humor to survive & why do people in the country have to survive to be able to laugh? why is a person’s age not counted by how close they are to death? aren’t humans too old now? (like this poem, isn’t your life already written—& interpreted by others, even before you can read it?)