Salem alehcon madreseh sharood shod
the white shal was never stifling.
familiar dust and the deep smell of roses.
little girls all in rows.
But how can my Baba see me?
How does he know I am his little girl?
The one in blue? The one with the rose?
Man enja hastam!
speaking to a foreign ear,
the time has gone.
parent’s decision tattooed in my flesh.
Will my memories be a dancer?
Tingling bells with brilliant colors
A beautiful woman
Will she look like me?
Mom won’t stop crying on the plane.