When night rushed in
the moon
like a gypsy girl
ran across the dome of the sky
Her white cloak
slid over the mountain’s lustful crest
and behind a wandering cloud
she veiled her face
to be safe
from the gaping eye of the valley below
When night rushed in
the plain
still enchanted by the wail of the dark horse
donned a cloak of black
A strange sorrow’s dust
ran over the city’s face
and the alley of solitude
silent
slipped into the childlike arms of sleep
to shield the bare soul
from the madness of the day
When night rushed in
the shadow of your image
peered through the memory of the window
longing
like days neither far nor near
it settled again in this ruin
With the thought of you
the stars could be seen winking
even on the room’s ceiling
But still
my restless heart
reads your gaze
hidden among the tales
Arsalan – Tehran
November 4, 2020
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