Translated by Saba Vasefi

 

I close my eyes

dream all the pandemoniums

are just a nightmare.

but then, my lids open,

and the terror of reality

slams my face.

 

For nine years,

the teeth of incertitude

were in my mouth

my freedom

tastes venomous.

 

New season of my imprisonment

is authorized

my movement is freer

but still I

breathe in virulent air

claustrophobic

and immersed

in the vortex of limbo.

 

My panic time

is tuned with

the Serco's censusing schedule

the sound of the officer's footsteps

piercing my nerves.

 

I wake up

and stroll towards the kitchen

to cut the orange

its sour scent destroys dizziness

but the kitchen is alien to me.

 

It is a peculiar sensation

to touch metal knives

my fingertip calluses

remind me of the camp

where I was infantilized

and only allowed

plastic knives.

 

I drink water

to revive my breath

go back to sleep

stare at the ceiling

again I'm swamped

in the quicksand of suspension

solitariness

cages my insomnia.