Amniotic Darkness

Amniotic Darkness

2019 and old Imishli

 jp

Was it war once here?

Am I that war?

Drops splatter in the dust, bring softness to the evening.

Thick air becomes light, even as the sun drops below the horizon.

I sit on a veranda.

I have showered.

Smoking a cigarette, watch mud form, watch a chicken huddle under a plank of wood.

We hide from the rain.

We watch leaves of quince trees shiver with pleasure.

Landlady brings me a meal of cheese:

sliced cucumber, sliced bell peppers, bread, stuffed tomatoes. stuffed eggplant. stewed lamb…

potato and yoghurt and tea.

I snuff my cigarette.

I enter the house to eat.

I sit where landlady has placed the meal for me.

At the head long table.

Attended by none but me.

Eat like a king in an empty castle.

Absurd, this coming to live in another country.

Absurd, this believing that one is welcome.

I am not sold in.

To be polite, I devour all that is on my plate as though watched from windows.

Rain falls heavily.

No electricity flows.

I return to the veranda with my tea.

I sit.

I sip quietly.

Alone with amniotic darkness.