Untitled — “Just Shut Your Mouth”

Translated from the Persian original.

Just shut your mouth, don't voice your firm convictions, come a little further with my assumptions. From here, look at what the passersby see of us through the window: two people in conversation. From across the street, two people who may not even be talking. From the window of the house opposite, you can barely make out our sex. Shut up and see how physical distances still make you small and diminish your properties. You like thinking big thoughts, fine, take this physics into account and understand that you have to get past its derivatives, like time and distance, and only then dream. Where did you think you'd come? Who told you to water your dream this much and set it in the sun so it would turn green? Can't you see your dream has only grown big and no longer fits in your head, without ever having turned green? Get lost, and stop hurting me, I'm already stuck with a big dry tree of my own on my hands. Coffee and cafés are for the time between two death throes. No, no. I'm not asking you to be realistic, quite the opposite: I want you to be real, there, in the place you see, and stop giving me so much dream-pain. I've got a dream-house up there in my head too, the whole seven-piece set, from young saplings to ancient, enormous trees. You want me to tear the house out of my head, dreams and all, and hand it to you? I have dreams more beautiful than yours, bigger ones, more unreachable ones, here, it's all yours. Bite your tongue and take it, let me think about my Friday tomorrow, let this bureau of dreams close for one day.

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