(her) vision must be protected
An American in Athens. A Persian demon. A German faggot. The Libyan sibyl. The names of plants and flowers, innumerable, repeated. A secret, a riddle, an oracle. I want to be left alone, and yet the men come and go, a new one each day. Burial mounds. The gay plague. The oleander, the palm. A papyrus reed, a walking stick, an arduous journey. Seeds of knowledge sown, salt and sand, dust and ash, bone and shell. The unexpected, or, how to die? Traces, or, what is left behind? A portrait, her eyes look down, she is holding a bouquet. She is beautiful. Being acted upon, losing presence, the horizon of crisis. Ruins, recovery. Death, awakening. No movement, no thing. Casting out, calling forth. What are we keeping? What are we letting go?
Ashkan Sepahvand is a writer.
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