Ghosts of Brussels

Author's name: Muhammad Baraka

From the tenderness of chaos to the harshness of discipline From the heat of crowds to the cold of isolation From the explosion of noise to the shock of silence Snow is soft kisses printed on your cheek by an experienced woman who knows the virtue of slowness Flakes hanging from eyelashes and chimneys of houses and glass facades lit all night A huge white sheet covering the roads and trees We did not encounter Santa Claus driving a sleigh pulled by reindeer made of light, but the smell of fear and hungry wolves The wish that hangs from my neck like a miserable talisman. Hiding behind checkpoints. Having a beautiful blonde in my arms is more effective than permits