Three Poems
You in Me
On the shore of the warm sea
I stand
My heels kiss your shores
I lift my dress to my knees
A wave
Tosses your pearl to me
Stretch out a hand
You grow in me
Turn out the light
We become three
Letting Go
In the mirror
I see my mother’s broken face
I grab lipstick
There are scents of things of people
A crack keeps me from myself
Mother’s hands
Fall on my shoulders
The scent of hands
And my scent blend
So, I am broken
In the mirror
The lipstick falls to the floor and
In the cracked mirror
I become my mother’s memory
Untitled
I hold the pistol to my heart
My hand over a place in my mind
One two three
When I know you are here
The numbers reverse
Three two one
My finger loosens
Men
Always
Disturb my work
See an overview of the special section on Kurdish poetry from this issue.