@hamedns

He drains the last sip and cries out: How can a person forget their own name? And he forgets that he forgets. We stand, watching in all the legends, forgetting that it’s possible. And then, in the height of forgetting, we remember our names. And he sets his glass down and says: See? It’s impossible for one to forget their name. To be emptied is easy. To remain empty, that’s what’s hard. In a moment, you are emptied. And you forget that you were not supposed to forget. And you replay it a thousand times, as if another life is not supposed to begin. Again, he shouts: I forget that I have forgotten. I have forgotten my name, my identity, my soul. Its trace fades, and once more, he forgets that he had forgotten . Poet: Myself

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