Saturday, September 8, 2018
Friday, June 22, 2018
Friday, August 4, 2017
Friday, February 24, 2017
Wednesday, October 26, 2016
Then we met more often.
I stood at one side of the hour,
you at the other,
like two handles of an amphora.
Only the words flew between us,
back and forth.
You could almost see their swirling,
I would lower a knee,
and touch my elbow to the ground
to look at the grass, bent
by the falling of some word,
as though by the paw of a lion in flight.
The words spun between us,
back and forth,
and the more I loved you, the more
they continued, this whirl almost seen,
the structure of matter, the beginnings of things.
Posted by آزیتا قهرمان ، Azita Ghahreman at 12:25 PM
Posted by آزیتا قهرمان ، Azita Ghahreman at 12:22 PM