last night when you left me
for a minute to go and talk
to your friends who don’t know
my name, I gave up on you
and I fucked this girl at random
by just thinking of her as she
danced with one hand at the nape
of her neck, with dark hair
and Persian eyes—saying ma’shAllah,
bold and backed under a light
that made her real, and physical,
and there for me, dancing like
she knew I was watching her,
like she was ready for me to
take her hand and place it
at my back, as I walked away
with her, as I pretended that
it wasn’t you in the back
room, it wasn’t me, that I
never wanted to be here,
never wanted to be hurt.

—Payam Cherchian

Download “Terra” as a PDF


Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry, Vol 1 Issue 1

Comments are closed.