Iran by Tyler Bigney

Caspian Sea
and empty promises.
Why do I do this to myself?

I remember a parasol,
and the bluest eyes
behind a black veil.

Purple dahlias.

I light a cigarette,
chewing sesame seeds
while an old man
sits next to me
smoking opium.

A broad shouldered man
an automatic rifle
butts through the crowds
stepping closer, closer, closer …

If I close my eyes,
and summon my energy
I might be able
to make myself disappear.

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