TE16 Turkish Delight

Nazli Karabiyikoglu There’s a man sitting on the shore of the Caspian Sea. We love that man. My mothers and I. One of us saw, loved but didn’t touch him. One couldn’t see, but loved him, and offered him our womb. One was born from his seed, and called him father. Put our hand to his neck, inhaled his scent deep in. His affection was so special, that we never forgot. His touch, his laugh, and his mind were drawn in our dreams. We all liked that he settled in this land. We cursed at those who took away his tent, while they ate drank slept, while we crawled in and around their organs we cursed. The three of us sang the hymn in different languages, the three of us tolled one another about him in their language. From those languages, heroes unlike one otherwere born. I interrupted the tale, and went somewhere else. Figured out the last words he heard and split my tongue into layered syllables. I endured all the darkness, sweat, and sharp flesh cuts to grow up in the place where my father went to. My father denied me those lovely cities. “It takes heart and blood.” he used to say.

I don’t know how to speak with my lips spread, my tongue up my palate. I don’t know what my father, my heart is after.

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