Little Girls 


On a Summer’s day–


when, slowly, the river ate at our sin,


passed the purging our pores emit


in sediments that run the river’s green–


Hiding behind the glimmer of a spider’s thread,


an epiphany hung itself down from the eaves.




The sunlight illuminates tangents from our pasts


off bodies of leaves.


And we begin to remember


forgetting to know that memories are finicky.


Today we are wantons to spectacle’s tall tales.




I start by calling air,


and ravel you in pre-pubescence.


Our eyes lock and fingers stick,


that whatever we touch


would lead us back to each other.




You are sun-kissed everglades,


and I,


the harvest moon.


There is a bigness in us,


but, we sway to different gods.


Hating each other for misunderstandings and impatience.




Today, though


we drown


Bodies floating downriver.


Blue with delirium




This day, we are close like childhood


when the color pink was lifeblood


and roller skates an identity.


Your freckles lay themselves on my face,


off your alabaster.


Pulling reminiscence from our features.


You stand in the mists of history’s empires,


both of us from some ether


            that waits for creation.


Both of us from maps


that are hand drawn,


and hold tall myths.


The two of us living today


with the lies we learned


            from after school sitcoms


            where every episode ended happily.


(c) 2013 by Yasamin Safarzadeh, all rights reserved

Yasamin Safarzadeh, born and raised in Los Angeles, California, has travelled the nation in search of diversities of American culture.  Along the way she organized multifarious art shows and collaborated with countless artists, in both developing the aforementioned and enhancing their knowledge base.


 


Ms. Safarzadeh funded her way to and from the East coast by constructing massive canvases and then live-action painting on said canvasses at multitudes of music festivals.


 


Now, back home, in Los Angeles, she is working to acquire her teaching credentials while keeping afloat in the flood of artists and hustlers that dwell in LA.


Still working to be published and performing, Yasamin has not limited the means by which she will satisfy her appetite and enthusiasm for art and for creating accessibility to the thing in her community. Her two chapbooks are available on Google books and a select poem for women’s history month is archived at the Library of Congress in Sacramento.

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