The Monster in Salzmarkt
Zohra Mousavi
How should I measure love
And let it grow wings
When all I have with me
Is a pair of broken legs?
Pendent, on the top floor of
my subsidised apartment;
In the garage, miraculously slab-on-ground
where the Dark daunts me
at 12,
I hear a Pain screeching, echoing hallways.
It resembled the hours Scyphozoa spent
kissing your neck, your soft tangled hair
— haunted, my Soul since
Dancing
is a pair of fractured limbs.
And let it grow wings
When all I have with me
Is a pair of broken legs?
Pendent, on the top floor of
my subsidised apartment;
In the garage, miraculously slab-on-ground
where the Dark daunts me
at 12,
I hear a Pain screeching, echoing hallways.
It resembled the hours Scyphozoa spent
kissing your neck, your soft tangled hair
— haunted, my Soul since
Dancing
is a pair of fractured limbs.
Zohra Mousavi was born in exile to refugee parents. She has studied politics for over seven years only to realise that her passion lies elsewhere: writing. She has founded Wander Kammer Museum – a digital museum that collects and displays refugee stories of (im)mobility and homemaking across the globe. Zohra stays in Berlin with her sister and two nephews, enjoys coffee and the rain.
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