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.
