You thinned your pain.

As a boy, on the frontier, you placed it like a small coin under the wheels of a train
And a girl you loved made herself a necklace of it in the fields 

Smugglers taught you how to strike it in the quiet 
            In the night with the hammers of thieves
                        to conceal your fingers’ marks in front of others

You thinned it with silence, with long walks
Until it became transparent and hard  
Like a cut nail disappeared in the carpet of time

And when you found it
It had become a moon eaten away by love
And you hung it in the sky of your soul

And stayed awake all alone, waiting for the azhan of Eid.