Migration at Night

February 21, 2014 § Leave a comment


The time was the night.

A migrant’s fingerprint is a map of movement.

Where words would only make sense if in verse.

Canyons of love to fall into.

The promised land without you.

But all in sight. All palpable. All falling like rain.

You took the boat and went under.

The sea at night is just the night itself.

Your body now, a waning moon.

A sigh on the other side.



Photo by Giorgos Moutafis who has dedicated the last years to a long-term project on immigration, focused on the European paths – gates of immigration.


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