"Inner Child Work" by Meryem Yildiz

no one has ever told me, don't go. or fixed
my tilted lampshade, changed the broken bulb.
you're good, i want to hear. stay. you've made
it this far to stare at a heavy gold necklace
hanging from a fine needle. there's the thread.
i'm glad you're here. how about you lie on
this pile of woven blankets from denizli.
wrap yourself up. stare at this oil painting
of your mother. she was always so weary of it.
said her eyes were drawn sad. don't go. stay.
you are a bloom. you draw your own eyes.
while you were resting, i changed the bulb.
i made it right. turn on the light. you'll see.




From The Malahat Review's fall issue #220