Translated by Saba Vasefi


Give me a pen

to draw the schizophrenia;

trace a transgender bone

pierced to pain

painted with a palette of bruises

colours unseen.


Somewhere there is a wall

to exhibit an ill, illegal

at an ignorant eye level.


Exhausted from riptides

and illusion waves

spiralling a vortex of uncertainty,

confined by the audience who don't intend

to take their hands from pockets

and heat my frozen panic.


In the hallucinated world

my darkling drawings are comrades

lighting matches

to melt the ice of anxiety

and promise a coming day

where gender-affirming surgery

validate my reality.


A day that is not




and all of my stabbed


are stitched and cured.


When we are not divided

in the binary borders of

your indifference

and my deprivation.