Published in Poetry Magazine (March 2026 Issue)
Ninety-eight days since the key last turned in the lock
someone has left your window open
to air out the room for the new tenant
everything in its place
the spare keys with the little plastic rainbow
the kitchen knives from small to large
your mismatched coffee mugs
a Turkish translation of The Brothers Karamazov
an English guidebook on treating depression
your cat’s stubborn hairs on my black shirt
your Armenian neighbor cry-laughing nonstop
cheeks the color of fire
everything in its place
except the pool of dried blood
that had been washed
from the floor.
Translated from Persian by Armen Davoudian