BRIDGES

“How strange is it
that our beloved
finds its way to us
in everything?
The orange moon,
a freckle,
the smell of coffee—
are all bridges
to the one we desire.
How does our beloved find us
in this way?
Or
are we the ones instead
who find our beloved in everything?
Our intense want of them
necessitates the nearness of them.
And so we seek beauty
only to be flooded with the beauty
of our beloved.
And we write ellipses on the page
only to be thrice reminded
of the freckle
below their lips…”

Kamand Kojouri


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