Dancing Tango
Oh, Orlando!
Remember the night we danced
quietly on the sands where music
was played? Your words were
wonderers, said quietly
in the pockets of my ears.Oh, Esphahan!
With your turquoise blue mosques
and lovers hiding under the sands
by the Zayandehrood and its haunting
blue skies. Still the words did
wonders when they were said quietly
in the pockets of my ears.Time is eternity, my dignity
resides in yours and your
words are wonders that I count
as precious coins kept quietly
in the pockets of my tears.
Drawings
The little girl's drawing,
walking
with her father
hand in hand
in a Halloween costume...
and a rabbit,
the Sun,
a white home.
The mother's drawing but...
showing her dad, dead
behind prison walls,
the soldiers with guns,
the war,
the cluster bombs.
5.7
I don't care if you are you and I am I. I am not some exotic flower. Whatever coat you have on, I will put it on to warm me... and the shoes however small... I will walk in them to balance our height difference. You don’t need to convert for me; I have already converted to you. You see I never had a religion to begin with. I was born naked from all religions but your love.
I know that was not the point. I know there is no conversion. There is no coat, no balance, no shoes but the naked truth of me finding you first, not you finding me. You, whom will never know who I was when I was sitting on the white sheets.
Y o u, not b e s i d e m e.
And the words that are already written. The words that are already said, are already felt, and are already gone.
And I try to take them back into my empty bowl of hands. To put my hands on the chest. The chest into rest. The rest in to the heart. The beat back to the soul. The soul, back to what it was before you.
Alas! I am 5.7
Sweet dreams and dream of me, he said
I think to myself... dreams never come true
I never got the red shoes... I was 5.
The bombing didn't stop... I was 8.
Mother doesn't return from her grave... I am 31.I want him not in writings, not in dreams. I want him as the day aches night.