Dear Soraya,

Love, are you okay? Do they you? I’m so worried you know. There’s lightning
across the sky all night, lighting up our by the . But no rain. Anyways,
you know at the store, they brought already. I pitted sour all
day, the tablecloth gave us went with their juice. Promise I’ll save you jars
of preserves for your return. some figs too. You know I haven’t
opened a since they you.
Till then, please eat well. By the way. The neighbors got an apology and
a few thousand dollars. They calculate based on and
and age. The worth of a ,of a human . hands shook as she
opened . She took it out front and ripped it. Had to calm her
before she went back in. Sorry. Didn’t mean to you. I hope I don’t
make you me....Why did you me to remarry? I told
and he couldn’t stomach it. I would never you know. I read some Gellhorn
like you recommended. The Ground. The wife sends letters to her
like I do. You know honestly I don’t read now. I’ve the books. All of
them. Can’t stomach their . All those
spines lined up on my shelf. How you would stand there, smelling the pages. them.
They all say the same story. None tell ours. Anyways, I couldn’t , so I’m
sitting by the window watching it streak. Gets sometimes, so I write you letters
I don’t send. I don’t mean to cause alarm. I only want the ones you open to
like a hill of poppies. God... I’m thinking I must look like something lit up
like this! Wish you could see it. Singing that you loved, remember, the line that
went “ ”? I’m holding the just for you.

Yours,

Lida (BC'23 she/her/hers) is a Psychology and Education major from Houston, Texas. Writing poetry is a way for her to connect with Iranian culture and explore new creative boundaries. This piece is inspired by Arab prison writing.