TE16 Turkish Delight

Nazli Karabiyikoglu happiness around him, and the people who got together and clapped their hands to the beat and danced every night weren’t leaving him a thing afterwords. No love, no longing. They were there for that moment alone… They were extolled in such a way that they were laughing at the world, at the countries who adored death, at the lands where women didn’t exist. He was comparing the cheerful crowd jumping off the ground, to themanydispersed by bombs. He couldn’t leave, or stay. He couldn’t evolve and be one of them. His blood African, his breath Asian. In the midst of days when he limited his own freedom to buying stuff like milk and bread from the store around the corner, Noah saw you. You were at the cafe right next to the store, gazing at the setting sun with half open eyes. Your rampart face full of wavy lines of your inside, as lonely as a barely standing house with bay windows and squeaking floors. Your neck, as if it was tensed by the vulgar Bosphorus, long, wavy, shiny. From your breasts came out the grandeur of the Galata Tower; you were keeping your spiraling staircases inside, waiting to get older to be beautiful. His looks locked on the shimmer of the milk foam on your lip, and you looked back at him, turned your whole body. Why did you smile? He came and sat next to you. Talked about air in the common language. He was excited, enough to talk about the air. He was overjoyed when you stopped and listened. Told you about his house around the corner, and for how long he’d been waiting there. You nodded. He assumed you understood him. More about

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