Canary Mural Beautifying Old Ruins

Ruin Lust

We didn’t want to visit ruins

stayed with relics in our own domestic landscape.

In the kitchen I was slicing persimmons into petals,
could hear him mumbling, as if over a coffin.

When did I begin feeling phantom pain
for my missing ear, my lungs?

I remember the courtyard of his chest,
ruin’s decay a memory of perfection.

-Esther Kamkar

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