the stories that made me
The day you finally decided
to get rid of all the letters
from your past lovers,
you sat on the wooden floor
of your bedroom
outnumbered
by your scattered memories.
You folded each sheet
into an origami swan
and hung them all
from the windowsill.
By sunset,
your window looked
like a shimmering lake
where a flock of birds
has landed to rest
for the night.
Last night I dreamt
that you and I stood
over broken glass
looking out
at our ravished city.
And when
it started to rain
you held your umbrella
over our heads
as the raindrops
tapped on the fabric
a secret code.
“Can you hear that?”
you asked me.
“The rain is saying
It’s not over yet.”
Every night
I hang my prayers
by the side of your beds
like little lanterns
that you can carry
to the farthest
edges of your dreams.
Onward fearlessly
my brave knights.
Come back victorious,
riding the horses of dawn,
with the morning sun
rising behind you.
I’ll be waiting
with pancakes.
At the bottom of the hill
in the shade
of the bare oak tree
we stood
shouting our names
into the distance
and catching the echoes
as they returned,
like boomerangs,
into our soft, bare hands
while that mighty tree,
ancient and undisturbed,
wrapped the autumn breeze
around its naked branches
like a scarf.
the sun touches my skin
it’s as warm as my mother’s touch
should have been
I’m not new to snow. But I am new to living where it snows right outside your doorstep, and where one is stuck with snow for around 5 months a year. And like anyone who is new to anything, like a child, I spent time watching and being mesmerized by it.
So here are a few of the many conversations that I had with this Vast Whiteness. We met just outside my door this morning and went for a walk.
—-
“The snowflake is water solidifying into structure,” said the Whiteness as I tried to catch some flakes floating down from the heavens. “The universe is making patterns at the smallest scale. Nature creating micro-art.”
The flakes landed on my jacket, and as I brought my eyes closer to observe, the Vast Whiteness said, “Just because the snowflake is small and trivial doesn’t mean it should not deserve attention from the universe!” I nodded in agreement, still scrutinizing the flakes on my sleeve and pondering my own triviality.
A man
and his
veiled wife
are playing chess in the park.
—
Behind them, a younger couple
‘s relationship is dying.
Two Weeks.
Maximum.
He caresses her and she responds; her movements
equal and reciprocal to his.
But useless.
—
The veiled woman
is ready
to checkmate,
but she doesn’t see it.
she doesn’t see
the strength
of her position. She
is unaware
of the many weaknesses in his defense.
—
Her
husband pays close attention to her
eyes;
he cannot save himself
if she
decides
to kill.