By Mehrnoosh Torbatnejad
In order of increasing yearning, the quake of my sour palate as
it receives salted green almonds, the labored slice of a practiced
knife through washed parsley, the translucent drip of citrus
soaking vermicelli, the spill of dried mulberries cascading in the
bin, the split of winter’s body limp in the lion’s teeth, the
collective countdown to the exact arrival of spring, the laughing
dove’s rolling coo signaling a buried relative, the clang of
hammering copper reaching ancient arches, the whisper of palm
leaves oscillating in a lone breeze, the splash from the
fountain’s spout polishing the turquoise rim, the wounded
man’s song throbbing under vaults of a bridge, the unyielding
sunlight’s relief when I telepathize gratitude, the unwieldy
sunlight crashing across the garden’s colored glass, the jammed
storm door then releasing the voices, the backyard’s commotion
of tending beloveds, the sputter of samovar after a day of
sightseeing, and my khaleh—the aunt who never says my name,
who identifies me, and us, by way of shared DNA—holds a cup
to me, rattling in its saucer, and says, come, khaleh, the
thundering ache that emanates from hearing my alias, the
sound of missing something already within reach,
the noise of it, the blast, love—rupturing my being
Mehrnoosh Torbatnejad is a poet and attorney. Her poetry has appeared in The Best American Poetry, Ploughshares, and New England Review among others. She won the 2019 LUMINA La Lengua contest and the 2016 Pinch Literary Prize, and is a Best of the Net, Pushcart Prize, and Best New Poets nominee. Her work can be found at www.mt-poet.com.
