You gasp and you're falling
His pains twirl around my wrists like loving chains
Sorrowful longing sweetened, settles by the shimmer I caress in his eyes
Make the air run out between my lips
steady me in the in betweens
We were meant to die
When the water wettened our wood
But the moment that's not coming will forever last
Make me wear the poets' skins
Make me dwell in what makes poems be
Make me one pulse that's swallowed in its pink desires
I'm parted like the seas
I'm marbled in the miraculous journeys
What am I my lover?
But the light that sheds and conceals
Nikoo Paloom is a writer based in Tehran. Due to the censorship and lack of literary journals in Iran Nikio has never had the chance to be published.