Ali Abdolrezaei

From far away                        you bury your father

wipe your mother's tears        from far away

in a café where you can ambush loneliness

you chat with a weeping house

video call from afar

Mother            three steps above everything like a moon                 is up there

kissing Mahsa (moonface)

goes after Mahtab (moonlight)

and yet her demeanour which carries a headache

is the execution of my placeholder

in the the arms of a few women

In a banned house

they're all coming

like I have left

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