I drew with the tip of my lead pencil on the cement—
     A line to separate myself from the world.
I drew a line to separate myself from the breeze and freeze that raped trees of their leaves.

I drew a line to separate myself from hands that hold necks,
Strong enough as if desiring their fingers to bleed,
Seeping into the skin lying below the chin—
Making them one,
Blending the line that discerns the nail from the bone.

I drew a line—
A barricade that protected our smiles,
An ocean that stretched far enough to lose us in the horizon,
A jungle as a labyrinth twisting their path toward us.

I drew a line, and reached out for your hand to bring you across.
You reached out your hand to bring him across.
 
I drew a line,
And regardless of how my knees bled
Grinding into the cement
Keeping me strong,

And regardless of how my knuckles throbbed holding the lead tight,
Regardless of every solid power in my breath that pushed that line
Embedding it into the elements that composed the cement
Pushing against our feet.…

I forgot that the clouds above are far too high for our embrace
To calm their tears,

And as they shared their sorrow with our own,
They washed away the doorway to our home.



Shokoofeh Rajabzadeh