ZIBA KARBASSI

A POEM

if he’s you,

you are him,
so, who is he?

the air, like blue is enough

human likes blue
blue likes blue
and i; one pair of bruised fingers
of my grandmother
to grip from her wrist
in a cold, compulsive press

to freeze with joy
like a reshaped ugly
ice cream

to melt from my index finger
with the warmth of the lips
my love

if he’s you
you are him
so, who is he?

this is what exactly is fucking
my head-thinking endless brain
and leaving me helpless

and like a scorpion biting my dreams
from sunrise to whoosh
falling down sun
to die in your eyes everyday
a thousand times
is huge and monstrous work itself

this embroidery dress that is slowly
losing itself in the embrace of this mirror
is my witness

i am this mirror
in the tired corners of the room

again, giving my sides to the streets
to see better of my seeing self

if that’s you
you are him
so, who is he?

drop me from your pig heart
want me with your ass blood
lay my head on your left chest
love me with stubbornness
with the name

with a road that there is no two sides between

gnaw me the way the dog gnaws the bone
suck me the way the bee sucks the blood
and drink me like fresh water
and raise me
and become mirrorised

and again

Translation by Lara Popovic

 

Malise RosbechComment