Poems by Naida Mujkić
The broken bowl In my language, there are40 words for cleaning,But every woman has herOwn word she invented My mother inherited herWord and used itOnly on Sundays She would take out cups and coffee potsFrom the kitchen cupboardThan exhaled hot air out of her mouthOn the surfaces of the dishesShe wiped it with a clothand drove out the shine I […]
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