Do you read my story, the story of my love, a love so deep that it is needless of your physical presence? Has there ever been a lover who has traced your essence in the air and kissed your lettering at every chance she gets. Have you ever had a lover who sits patiently for you to take her in your dreams if not in reality, who wears you like a bangle, and to whom she is like a devotee to Lal Shahbaz Qalandar?....... to walk so that the movements of my breasts wouldn't break the bricks on the walls. Thus I was a bad apple. They planted me, watered me, and yet I came out to be blue. I felt the pain, heard the screams that couldn't leave the walls of Evin prison when I passed them to go climbing the mountains in northern Tehran. I knew the walls real color isn't gray, isn't made of cements but blood, torture, and I learned heaven is reserved for the raped virgins. I wanted you to hold me, to sooth me, to love me in the mornings and afternoons...... (here)