When it does smell

Blood smell comes out of the room. Blood smell comes out of the door of the room. Blood smell comes out of the little dusty windows of the room. Out of this aged walkman, out of that en masse filled book shelf, out of this damn Abd-el-Halim crying continuously in your deaf ears “Ma as’aba an tahva…” blood smell comes. Blood smell comes out of your ears, out of your lips and teeth.

The smell of obsolescence comes out of the extravagant ancient carpet of your room, out of Jack Nicholson’s poster sticked on the left wall, out of the painting of Kaaba door hanged on the wall which contrasts the Qibla, out of Mirhossein’s picture with V-shaped hand on an old newspaper. The smell of obsolescence comes out of damn boring Herman Hesse who doesn’t let the poor wolf die peacefully in a cozy corner of a damned cold bright street. The smell of obsolescence comes out of your elegant idiotic eyes with huge amount of tears festered behind your long devout eyelids.

The smell of rotten wounds comes out of your spoilt disgusting birthday present, out of the short crooked roof of your room, out of this deaden dumb violin, out of the never bought piano of yours. Damn Micky Roucky smells like a rotten wound. The smell of rotten wounds comes out of mama’s “Red Bread” story while I am just a kid, out of your ribbed orange T-shirt, out of these wet shy eyes. It smells like a rotten wound your left red hand with a quiver in it with your bent stitched fingers.

The smell of cigarette comes out of Tehran-Mashhad train. Our laughter smells like a cigarette when we bunk off the school and make the world seeking after us. Your cheeks smell like a smoked finished cigarette as your hurt throat does. He smells a cigarette reclining on the car crying in silent as you keep watching him from the mirror apprehensive as a mother. The smell of cigarette comes out of your wallet.

The smell of a dagger comes out of my vessels. Out of my athirst blood vessels. The smell of dagger comes out of my lips and teeth. Out of my throat, my hands, my wallet, my calm large eyes. Blood smell comes out of my tired mind. The smell of dagger comes out of my body. The smell of blood, smoke, dirt and pepper, all are coming out of my clothes of yesterday.

P.S: You can find the Persian version of this post here!