there are things you will never see
past your own eyes
or hear with your own ears
and they are the cries that
remain muffled and the
groans that remain in hiding
for ache can be too grotesque to witness
and pain can be too much to bear
save but one drop that escapes my
eyes and stains my cheek
and finds its way to still
call out your name.
From Neolithic seafarers to modern refugees, the hidden history of Malta is
written in cheese.
8 hours ago
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