Autumn Again But Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Time has come
I am waiting to see her again
My heart is already throbbing and
My mind is reviewing the previous image
Her colorful jersey-like dress fallen to her feet
Her hands standing upward; resembling Aphrodite

But
Deep in my throat
Grease-like is a bubble
Never dies, it never lets go
It is killer lubricant, has no shape

It is like a child blowing into soap water
So that bubble changes shape in the sun
Colors vary from blue to red, and others
They are circles, oval, sphere and others.

I want to talk
I want to cry
I want to but
Is impossible

Pride is mixed with my need
Pride is mixed with wisdom
Pride is mixed with modesty
Pride is the spice of them all

Pride is like the bubble
Stopping me of talking

'I am sorry...'
I said and now I sit in a corner
Like a wolf shot in legs, head
It is bloody, pains everywhere.

I will possibly, not see the tree trunk surrounded by her fallen leaves and her branches in sky. I am still struggling with the meaningful of height, stomach and throat. It goes from head to toe.