Ashley Hajimirsadeghi

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Ashley Hajimirsadeghi

testimony [objects in the mirror are closer than they appear]

You, who unwinds stitches & has memories bleed
blue when retold, will look in another’s eyes to see
your own reflection. Google says when you look
at something you love, your pupils dilate. You will

say you’re in search for love, someone who calls just
to hear breathing on the other end. That’s your excuse
when holding gazes longer than appropriate, smile at
passing strangers. Poets go & tear themselves in two,

bleed out for nothing. That’s what your father always
said at dinner in-between bites. According to him,
you were undeserving of a tourniquet. Every family
has a tragedy & you were ours, but in this history,

your memories do not exist. The dust was blown away,
nooks & crannies tidied before guests arrived
Today you tried to guess where the wind was going
& lost sight of it. Distracted by a blaring car alarm,

it slipped through your fingers & vanished. You wish
you could’ve made an entire sculpture out of that dust—
art is meant to be gazed at with dilated pupils, be loved
& cherished. There are so many reflections in the world

but you lay upside down & look & look & look

Ashley Hajimirsadeghi reads “testimony [objects in the mirror are closer than they appear]”


Ashley Hajimirsadeghi is an Iranian-American multimedia artist, writer, and journalist. Her writing has appeared, or is forthcoming, in Moon City Review, Hobart, DIALOGIST, RHINO, Salt Hill, and The Shore, among others. She is the Co-Editor-in-Chief at Mud Season Review and a contributing writer and critic at MovieWeb. Her work can be found at