from: hatice taşan
title: breath-less
form: poem; hand-written and collaged in a hand-made book

What he wondered

was four letters
What he tried to hear
was just two syllables...
He come closer...
looked at my eyes and laughed
But I wanted him to cry
While I was trying to hide
the needle holes in my dress
He said he knew what I sewn loop by loop
I wanted to raise the lace covering my face
Don’t bother
It is not black
Didn’t you notice it...
What I saw was always your eyes...
I was ashamed...
Did I think his eyes were in pansy color
He understood...He was silent...
While I was about to beg him not to get sulk
He said no, I was just jealous
of the blackness of your laced face
in a silent way
I was afraid...
I said a prayer before crying
My God, please, please
let him not to have known that
he looked at me with his pansy eyes

I began to beg, bellowing
Take me into your arms
In your arms take me...
He held my hands...
I begun to laugh ...(at last!)
You are wrong...
I was always this close to you
Come again?
He said come, with his hand on my heart
Look at the mirror
I will introduce myself to you...
I was puzzled...
I protested
I know you!...
I know you!..
Look, here is
your red color
I painted by smiling
With that blazed object
that I deliberately put on you
You are a row of prayer beads on my neck
While I call out your name
shouts my eyes
deaf is my heart
whispers my silence
that first letter
your last syllable

he just drawn my body for the last time
from the mirror, without painting it
His face looked just like my dress
Wearing black lace, made of white cotton
He raised my head that fell aside
His lips picked up
his pansy looks
from the blue marble-like eyelids of mine
He wrapped around me, but he never cried
He slowly whispered
Now his warmness is in a color
I can see...
He kept on wondering
my fall for that crazy laugh of his
that I kept inside me...
Should he have wondered?
I don’t know...
And I don’t want to know...