by Mir-Yashar Seyedbagheri
The night welcomes me, dusks lavender curtains opening tenderly. Moon smiles, luminous mother moon. She dries tears after tears, banishes the words lodged in my souls: Drifter. Dreamer. Senseless writer. Irresponsible. Words uttered by a man with a mustache, a bald head like a demonic fetus. Night asks no questions. Night invites me to dream, floating upon wisp-covered clouds on gossamer wings, under mother moons luminous smile. Ive wondered why it asks no questions. Can it not see my flaws? Is it not bothered? It never answers. I dream on, content with somnolence and love.
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