" We all wear masks
to veil the truth.
Truth is nakedness.
Truth is fear.
Truth is the gardener
making you sit on
his lap
asking you to
light his cigarette.
Truth is father—
with a limp cigarette on his lips
—telling you to never
use his matches
to light it for him.
Truth is father
yelling:
"It is not
nice for little girls
to do so”.
Truth is a curious girl
wanting to
ignite a match
like a woman.
Truth is the maid watching
from the kitchen,
knowing.
But knowing isn’t truth.
Truth is the maid calling:
Come. Come.
Truth is the gardener understanding.
But understanding isn’t truth.
Truth is the maid saying,
"Stay away!"
Truth is a girl thinking
she is in control.
That nothing happened,
nothing bad.
But the truest truth
is a girl knowing,
a girl understanding that
on that day
someone stole
a little piece of her
truth. "

― Kamand Kojouri