Sentenced Not to Drown
A fragmented poetic collage exploring longing, intimacy, memory, and emotional contradictions. Through disconnected images and shifting perspectives, the writing invites readers to construct their own connections between moments of tenderness, violence, absence, and desire.
I see.
The sparkles in your closed eyes,
The strength of your open hands,
Your silent prayers shatter my empty soul.
Stranded in the ocean,
Deep, only to my ankles.
Too shallow to drown,
Too deep to lie down.
Stream of my sins
Turns into a roaring river
But not enough to fill the ocean.
Now it doesn't even matter
How the weather is.
Calm and sunny,
Stormy or dark.
The blasphemous sentenced not to drown.
The sparrow rattling inside the cage,
Moving hands, aggressively there.
The sound stops, the palm turns into a fist.
No silence, no prayers.
I push the screw right under its neck.
Don't mind the feathers, they'll burn in flames.
Now you're well-fed and smiling.
Close your eyes for me while lying.
Cold whispers into flaming kisses.
Translate as they come to my ears.
My hands start the fire.
Plains burning in your chest,
But no sparkles in pupils.
An old photo of present spaces,
Memories are the same,
Like snails, kind of invasive.
Me, climbing a tree,
A broken branch, both my arms, too.
Time healed us with dust,
But there were no more blossoms.
It hurts to hug tight too.
The itching on my back gets worse
Simply by touching.
Annoying, like a tiny pebble while you're running.
No point in winning when there is no one watching.
Surgeons hurt for a reason.
How do I know my love’s meaning?
Cats hunt no more, it's not about surviving.
Bite off my itching flesh, just be gentle, darling.
The cure is inside you, healing even if you're not trying.
For a good cause, like a pill that is dissolving.
Stir faster,
I'm dissolving.
Sentenced Not to Drown — Hamid Attaran.
An experimental poetic collage.
© Hamid Attaran. All rights reserved.
