Staying With Family
The round table of small events
The timber house filled with gossips of ghosts
The half broken window pane
I knew could expose all my shame
Stealing my big brother's pocket money
Pretending to be his sister of honey
But we were children
Lost among the numerous
Shady rooms
Cats and kittens
And pocket books
Which still whisper into my ear:
"You're a misarable thief of stolen memories..."
Ayten Suvak
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