“We, of that time, are no longer the same” – Pablo Neruda
within the folds of time
I grew to be a story
of departures
aches silences
of ties by synapses
of prance over the loops
of distances.
in pursuit of illusions
I became a night
carnival
of siren songs
in rains of romances
of plunging stars and scars
slipping in my heart’s
tender trances
of burst bubbles
and pretences
of another
age.
in the brink
of my soul’s
autumn
I settle as the body
of my room round
with one single limpid wall
that dances for
the syntax of joy
wall of past tears
heedless to the curses
of your glances
and a ceiling of air
across which skip-fly
birds of bright
chances.
don’t be surprised
to see how
my sorrows rise
for lack of
weight.
©2008, Azadeh Azad
