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Isolated Breakfast

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I see four nurses dressed in white

Four half breaths masked in blue

Helping who lying in street

Someone who about to leave

By the last deadline is received
....

I see a rare scene in my history

Entered by window to take my seat

I'v never had a breakfast like this

First swallow was taken by high beat

Separated chair knocking the door

With murmuring ' who is charged with this

My hands are again in the first role

Since author does not write by his feet

....

I see a rare scene in your history

An isolated version of your look

Owing a black-eyed glance at me

Still is floating under lined shock

Seems four-seat table all against me

With a separated seat walking up to me

Who knows what the morning's life like

If a frozen mask kisses you rather than me

....

I see four hands dressed nothing

A broken feeling saying nothing

In one of the most coldest time

All cavilling the breakfast to do nothing

Who knows what the morning's life like

If two crossed hugs sense nothing

7 am is the right time to date

Our watch has shiver and showing nothing

....

I see four nurses dressed in white

Stepped in to start an aerial fight

Four half breaths masked in blue

Begging to exhale by the last shot

Who knows what a drug feeling like

If not able to make the morning hot

Having no time in cleaning the table up

Witnesses now shows I was doing right

Take care of the three empty chairs

And say all you keep grabbing the cup

Waiting to see our breakfast released

With two cracked cups

Whose taste will be ever hot
...................
Iranian Poet and Researcher
Mostafa Sarabzadeh

Photography: Erica Zeitz
el Poblenou, Barcelona
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