in a desert somewhere in iran, theirs a not too high tower of stones with no door no window,and one area that has a circular bedroom, and one wooden table with a bench. in the rounded circular cell, one man who looks like me ,writes using characters that I don't understand. he writes a long poem about one man in the other cell that is in a circular cell.the processes don't have an ending and no one will.reading what the prisoners write.
