by Farideh Hassanzadeh
I dedicate this poem to Honoré de Balzac and Eveline Hanska for their decades-long correspondence, in which they expressed a deep mutual affection before they met each other.
“More than kisses, letters mingle souls. ” — John Donne
We never met each other.
I never saw you in pyjamas,
brushing your teeth just before sleep,
and I never got a glimpse of your soaking head
out of the shower, when you’d yell:
“I forgot my comb, will ya please give it to me?”
I never saw you limbering up
early in the morning
or at night, when you were snoring
and water was oozing out
from the corner of your lips.
I never had the fortune
to iron your shirt
or serve you a bowl of hot soup
and cover you up at night
when you caught a cold.
In the cold of midnight,
our bodies never made each other warm
but, imbued with fabulous lies and dreams
our letters and poems
more beautiful and innocent than pure truth
announced us husband and wife formally.
And our children were the love songs
immortal in the rains of bombs,
invulnerable to the curses of gods.
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