Dear Maman…

dear maman:


i’ve been taken to a place

where your absence overcomes

what means most to me.


i’ve been taken to a place

where being complete

will arise from the incomplete.


a place consisting of me, myself, & i

and maybe a few other things

that fit.


my backpack as the vehicle

to bringing back what has been lost

in my disposition.


you are my forever home, maman

but in that backpack, my box and your prayer beads

hope to fill the gap in this unknown place.


do you remember the time, maman?

when i asked your brothers,

your sister, and my cousins


to sign the small, cardboard box

i received from the packaging of a small wooden doll house

their signatures forever immortalized


a piece of family in this empty place

the feeling of the smooth, brown surface of the box

marked with black sharpie:


“asheghetam, pegah joon,”

my cousin wrote.

“i love you, pegah dear”


maman, the box was not enough

and i hope you mind

but i took you prayer beads


their white, pure color relaxes my mind

the “tick tick tick” of each bead that you count

in the darkness of your room

when you pray before going to sleep


the comfort the beads provide you

now belong to me

in this place i’m beginning to see

as not so lonely.


because when i feel the smooth surface of my box

and i feel the cold, individual beads against my fingers

i am home



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