By Ahmed Latif
A ballerina in a music box spins herself into a frenzy,
A pious, dervish-like frenzy.
Drain the light so the children could play.
Without bias, the darkness lingers like an insistent guest
Dining on exquisite moments,
Proletarian and effervescent moments;
Moments that will evaporate and waft,
Elevate and flow,
Into the inverted grand canal of time.
Only to be lost before the ballerina comes to a rest.