For Roja Azadian
We’d said goodbye to her
ten days before she got on that flight.
She and her partner hosted a good-bye party
took us to the tiniest room in their home
where the biggest thing was photos of us
on the pinboard: memories from
Beethoven Symphony 9 concert.
We had said goodbye to her
ten days before all we see
when we close our eyes are
open-mouthed luggages, shattered china
the ones she packed to make the new country
feel like home.
Her husband asked us for photos
of ten days, weeks and years ago
her phone deformed, albums stomped-ash
Going through our phones, picking pictures
for funeral, the press, the media.
Her, ten days ago, wearing our gift:
red embroidered earrings.
We had said goodbye to her
ten days before we found her name
on the list of people announced dead
and didn’t know we’ll be singing
Symphony 9 at her grave.
We had said goodbye to her.
Ten days before or weeks or months,
we had sang on the streets in the name of freedom,
cheering for the ones responsible for us
saying goodbye to her, each other, our homes.
Sarvin Parviz (she/her) is a multi-genre writer, collaborator & multimedia artist born in Tehran, Iran. Her repertoire includes poetry, fiction, nonfiction, libretti, plays, collages, video art, performance and photography. She is the winner of Graduate and Professional Council Award in Creative Activities and a semifinalist in the European Opera-directing Prize who recently developed her first opera at Guerilla Opera Writing Collective. Her song cycle S(or)i, developed at FUSE: Collaborations in Song, had its world premier at MIT in 2025. She holds an MFA from Southern Illinois University Carbondale and currently is based in Saint Louis. Her work has appeared in Fractured lit, Grain Magazine, The Indianapolis Review, Apple Valley Review, Roi Fainéant Literary Press among others. As usual, she is working on multiple projects, one of which is a collection of micro-fiction.