Its midnight
Laying on an empty bed
Torturing
By the scent of humidity
And sweaty parts of my body
At the end of the silence
sound of water dripping from kitchen pipe
is ripping the loneliness of my sad kitchen
In a dark room
Naked walls
Stared wondering to the frames
Laying carelessly to them.
And me
Without any reason for being
for existing
Waiting the emptiness of slippery and unconscious days of summer
Waiting
Just witing
For the end of days full of loneliness
But what am I waiting for?
In this atmosphere full of fear of being lonely
In this four walls which I call home
And everyday
Write on the walls
How many days remain to autumn
To the scent of hungry afternoons
And carrying the schoolbag?
My Mother is waiting for me
Its been Long time…
She is waiting for me to say:
“Mommy! have you seen the girl next door?”
What a useless effort she does
To fire an oven which has been cold for years and years…
I can take you
I can take you. you boring loneliness
I can take you
I can take this walls of my home
I can take the windows which open to the empty crowds
But
I cant take my mother’s needing look
I have to write something to my mother
Something like a will
I will shed tears
I will ask. I will beg:
Please forget about the groom’s suit
Please forget about wedding catering
I should write something
But
I wont write that “your son likes to sleep with someone from his own sex”
That your son has left your hands
So he wouldn’t t disappoint your needing look
I wont write that its been days and days that
Those memories occupied my mind and made my life hell
I wont say that there would be no one from his sons seed.
I just want to write:
Mom! I miss you so much. I want to be with you. But please… don’t ask about the girl next door..
______________________
Varand is a gay Iranian who lives in Shiraz. He is a painter and a poet. You may
Reach him via info@huriyahmag.com
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