By Reza Jaafar
There’s still room for you – inside
With our pictures, I hung in frames
With our letters, I kept in beside jars
The mattress smells just like you
A scent that was once mine
You can crash here – anytime
I won’t lock the door
Please bring the you I longed
Not the new version – not the derivative
But the original – from my kind
I won’t permit another – if it’s you
Stupid to assume you’ll come back
Even if you were – you must’ve slipped
The levels and numbers to your room
Even the wallpapers – the carpets
Are now much alien to you
But of course, people fickle like candles
Names and faces will again be disappeared
So new residents step through the lobby
With new baggage and scents for me to carry
Up to a room that was belonged to –
“I don’t remember who”
A substitution of you
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