still a kind of encounter, Öykü Akın
I hear father weep from where he sleeps
dug out from where his body fell limp mid-prayer
the only way to live on is to let yourself be devoured
I lost my golden bracelet in the ocean once
as father watched the birds migrate from the shore
and imagined it in the belly of a whale become poison
today, I’ll take my car and drive to that cliffside
catch up to the past that lures us in with nostalgia
and drink up the gasoline as if it’s my lifeline
if you stand on the edge with me, blame it on the human condition
and make this the last metaphor for your next step forward
only in the waters that boil does death remain eternal
father lays awake each night and climbs out of the soil
in the cover of the dark to wear his costume of soul and flesh
and wanders the halls until I too wither away
Öykü Akın is an undergraduate student in Boğaziçi University and an emerging bilingual writer residing in Istanbul. She can be found writing micro fiction and poetry or working on her fantasy novel.