The winner
by Azita Ghahraman
Translator : Azadeh Davachi

Sometimes give me your eyes
And Change your name with me
Until I call you with numerous names.
I come into view and hide
One, two, three
Now tell me in your cloth
Which one is me
Some times I become you
Give me your fingers, I always
Do not have enough to coddle.
Then, let’s stand in front of each other.
Turn, roam and pass across
The breaths, amidst our hands,
Our skins and strings of hair
Latent, apparent, lost
We are shuffled and set again
With the sound of laughter.
See! We are more than one again
And this one is me who
Loves you more.

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