”Through the small gate of loneliness… I have been hanged .. and from all glances of lie.. running away… I want to whisper my wishes through the ears of winds... the wind runs away from the vibration of my throat… I want to create the flying of my own.. I want to touch the descending voice of my own... I want to… placed in the huge hands of being… resemble a waiting fetus… I have been floated… through the small gate of loneliness”

 

- a short poem by Simrin Keramati