Suppose That I'm Inevitable Poem by Rosa Jamali

Suppose that I'm Inevitable
A Poem by Rosa Jamali
Translated from original Persian into English by the Author

Suppose that I'm inevitable
Even the blood vessels of my hand
Cross you out from the drafts.

Dead hair would stop growing once!

On soothing nails
The breeze
Which is not from the sky
Is embedded
And my hand's veins are running out of blood
No pulse beat!

Spinning along the extension
Dead chipped yellowish fingers
Never hair grows endlessly
But this is the second happening!
My creation was not done thoroughly
When I was born.

All veins of my neck testify.

Even If my ten hot fingers
Tie to your broken breath binding
There will just be dead-end alleys
All will be erased.