All images of Isfahan, Iran, by Ali Emami Naeini (Ali Em) CC by 2.0. Taken from the album ‘Remember’ depicting his people, home and culture.
By Violet White
We have long watched you
pour vitriol drawn from the heart
to the mouth, onto a grief-cupped world.
We have sifted the elements to know you.
For everything, everything has form,
and we are patient. Though you danced
many years with moonbeams to dapple
your shape, and some were conflicted,
an affinity with darkness
is the reveal you could never avoid.
In these patterns
the edges of your design fall into place,
sketching your parameters.
Slip by slip, you show your hand;
a slow-burning blend of shame.
The flame now creeping back up
your fingers to engulf you, escapes
your eye. But not ours.
Your deflections still dazzle,
but they do not disguise.
And we see you.
We are the wind that turns the fire.
And this is our time.
