My Grandmother's Wounds
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries
Carrying all my grandmothers’ wounds
Combat boots marked my head with terror
my back bruised with the lashes of my man’s old belt
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries
With infants hanging from each side
Sucking on my milkless breasts
Their urine unkoshers my religious purity
inherited from my grandmother’s time
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries
To throw hateful words at my own children
It avenges my life of a dead person
It comforts my purposeless time
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries
To live the life they have destined for me
The men who are not even from Persia
Those bearded strangers who stress their “Zaad” at the time of worship
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries
To be weak so my man can call himself strong
And to be a mother to my many unwanted children
So he could brag about his fertile manhood to you all
And for his God to reward me at the end a paradise
To watch him making out with the good-looking cherubs
I am being thrown from the depths of centuries!
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