Translated by Rebecca Ruth Gould and Kayvan Tahmasebian Here in this bright room in the inn I’m happy you’re not here with me
Consider andropogon: Having done with green She stands, no longer pliant Her yellow-dusted stamens spent. Her stems have learned the ways of wind
Small, seven-years-old, chewed fingernails dug in, baby fat of thighs pressed into thick raised bark, I scrambled up to a crux. There in the