Knowing that your name – mahi – does not start with ‘s’ Your insertion in constellation of haftseen always was a mystery to me,
Until I read that you’re symbol of something…
But for me you’re symbol of endurance, an epic struggle for staying or going…
Your four months battle with loneliness when your “joft” had died much earlier,
Was most neglected event of the past spring season….
How could we do that? To ignore the fact that your eyes always were directed to the bottom of the jug.
I kept changing your water every 4-5 days,
Without asking you, what you really want from me?
You never flapped for life in my palm in the grave momentum of deprivation from water.
Perhaps I elongate your sufferings and I should’ve committed a terrible crime.
Now I bury you under a dried plant’s pot.
You will turn to the first ever bud of the spring’s vegetation, craving for the dawn’s drizzle…
