November 30, 2022 - “Regular Visions” by Rahil Najafabadi

REGULAR VISIONS

The icy ground must be slitting soon. A cold air
has broken the surface of our conversation.
I’m afraid of the things I want to say because
I don’t want them to come out, but they always do.
As I grow I think I’ll learn to become an individual,
unshaken by the trees in the wind or any lover.
But I make the same mistakes and stand with the trees
until a human in motion carves their name on my body.
I am not claimed this way, but I’m nested with winter.
My human leaves and becomes a dot in the snow,
yet I am here, waiting for them to become a figure again.
I think I am losing my eyesight when I don’t see him near,
But then I remember that these are regular visions.