but you, little sister,

i want to make you

a world that makes sense

your upturned face

like a flower,

i would have you always

sitting in sunlight

not this dusk, these tales i spin

for my sad lord are meant

for you, beat of my heart,

heart of my world

you see them first: the dreams

i cannot tell, the hoopoe’s call,

the stars that slice this canopy of sky

blood-warm, you feel them

as i feel them: talk in stories,

love in words, these sounds

in your ears make my world

make sense.

دنيازاد