“Come, friends.
Come with your grief.
Come with your loss.

Carry all the pieces of your heart
and come sit with us.

Bring your regrets
and your failures.
Bring your betrayals
and your masks.

We welcome you no matter
where you come from
and what you bring.

Come and join us
at the intersection
of acceptance and forgiveness,
where you will find
our house of love.

Bring your empty cups,
and we will have a feast.”

Kamand Kojouri


“I haven’t written you a poem in years it seems.
How can it be my fault
when the words to describe you
have yet to be created.
When the alphabet lacks the very letters.
How can it be my fault
when your loveliness only grows
by the time I reach for pen and paper.
Tell me, how am I at fault
when I am only a beginner in poems
and you are exquisite poetry.
To write you in words
is to put a veil upon you.
Why must I write
when I can kiss you instead?”

Kamand Kojouri