how does it feel when yours is the only door that does not creak. privately she speaks to me in sunlit secrecy. i asked my god to take a walk through my prefrontal cortex. the core of my existence whispered hymns of muslim magma. melting on my botus brain, beliefs of pollination. neurology is nectar-filled so feed me food for thought. where do you go when daylight closes clouds for corporations. when mosques are masks for ignorance and religion’s disintegrating. hold my hand and pray because today don’t mean tomorrow.