SIXTH TEXT IMPROVISATION "In Praise of Linoleums"

​I have sat with it for so long,
that its white specks now march through my pupils.
My hands are calloused,
and the chisel is stitched like a patch to my fingers.
Forms rise from the heart of a smooth surface,
and reliefs begin to emerge.
The joints of my fingers are knotted,
transmitting a gentle ache into the forms—
a pain so delicate,
it summons me into poetry.
​Milad Zeynali
May 2025