Poems

Face Cloth

The age when Jesus was crucified
Holding from the hollow of my hands
I am nailed to life with two children
Being a water that I have rinsed the love glass with
Like a lorry carrying fragile goods
It's difficult to bear
They assume that I am talking to myself
Whereas it's always with me
The face towel you left while leaving
You ruined the hide and seek game but
From my hiding place
You forgot to tell me to get out
Before I go to bed every night
I wanted you to be the book I read
I would fold before switching the lights off
The tip of the book that I left half unread
To that- you would say my skin is getting wrinkled
I am getting old
In the desert from your absence
In every step I take
Pours out from my eyes
The waters I carried on my hump
Far from its lover's shadow
The crying camel dies in the desert.
When the weather darkens gently/slowly
By becoming a black person
I remain in the coast /shore of Salacak
And Kiz Kulesi (Maiden Tower)
Stands opposite of me like Ku Klux Klan