Mansoureh Hosseini

Cup meets table, table meets my cold fingertips
still shocked from the lingering absence
of your long limbs between them

Glass meets desk and then my forehead
Sweaty, sedated as if
choked from the different versions of the story
his story

Too much contact and unknown callers
Is bad for the soul, Romeo
Call me, call my name
(What if Juliet had vertigo)

Lip meets knees, and skin gets wet
“No home is ever home again
You are never with me again
I am never without you, me again”
The bullshit excuse of unhappiness is only a few repeated words
Repeated songs
That mean nothing

Like a passive glance through the shop window
Hands in pocket, “do I go in or do I keep walking?”
Will you settle for me, the table pleads
Will you come in and dine on me?
Warm me up
Eat over me
Spread the cloth
Click the cutlery
Drop the crumbs
And,
Do you have to leave me?
With a few coins and no memory

Eyes meet the yellow line
Eyes keep looking at its course
My fingertips are warming up
My phone is off
And I am both Juliet and Romeo.

Like the frozen gaze of a boy everyone singing happy birthday to

But I’m comfortable, knowing
Even closed pistachios can be broken.

Janaury 6, 2017