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Saturday, 29 November 2025

Poem... (3)

 

- Long Numb Face - 

 

Never smelled a love,
Not even from a thousand yards.

I hid it in the quiet part of me,
ashamed to see it on a paper,
yet I barely feel any guilt at all.

The sun is nearly gone,
and only the cold moon stays with me.

Not angry, not happy, not surprised—
just one long, numb face I can’t quite fix.

Here comes the wounded owl,
and the long, dull night waits for my surrender.

 

by Shamsaddin Amanov, 29/11/2025  

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