inquiry tending to the serious

the erratic love of flan                                        








Tell me,
My avid, god-avenging friend,

You have never changed your mind, ever?
You have never abandoned, once even, what you held deep and true?
Maybe you loved chocolate ice cream once and then moved on to vanilla?
Strawberry?
Hating ice cream altogether?

Changing your mind ever happened to you?
Loving pencils and moving on to pens?
Loving rainy days until you saw the homeless, drenched, and now only wish for eternal warmth and sunshine? Or is that too sentimental?
How about loving Pepsi until discovering Coke? Well, try, if you haven't.

Are these you? The love of Coke and strawberry and pens?
Are they attached to your neck? To your left arm?

You can't even locate it.
It's somewhere in your mind, and only when awake (I take it you are always sober...).

Opinions are funny that way.
They are loose in the air, they come and go, settle and shatter.
They are a cross-section of your time. A mere moment in a mere mortal's life.
They don't last. They don't matter. They are erratic. And not attached to your body.

Would you erase my body if I loved vanilla ice cream?
Maybe I could change. Or even grow. Maybe the desire for ice cream would fade.
You don't know. You can't know.
Opinions are funny that way.

So tell me,
My avid, god-avenging friend,
May I keep my body if the faith has faded? If I turned against the faith? If I fight the faith?
If I have moved on to strawberry? Flan even?






      Sahar   Hooshdaran










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