AS-No More...

No More... No more thoughts of him Than of a bit of orange peel She won’t hear his name even For the sake of the past she’ll count till seven Before she burns her restless imagination In the vortex of heaven She’s ready to give him a kick To such a fair game of everyone’s wit As she unfolds the allegory In the way to calm and subdue her fancy Which mistook an orange for his head She smashed the fruit in both hands... Ayten Suvak