Tehran, 1981

I woke up from my dream-
In the old house,
By the stairs

It was dusty
You were pale
After years of no one there-

Every nook every cranny had trace DNA
Evidence of you and me
Evidence we were once free.

Who took over those lives,
the ones meant for you and I
Our possessions are their prize
Our ruin-
Our demise.

Spoils from a war,
Nothing left for to adore-
No more lovely alibis-
only black cloaks in disguise.

On every building is his face
A fake smile made to erase
the sinister look in his eyes-
I hear their battle cries:
Ayatollah! they beg come.
a furtive battle has been won.

And we miss the mountains, heat, and sun;
it’s in vain.
Nothing holly here to gain.

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