There is a blue bead that always appears on the base of the town clock at certain times throughout the year. The locals don’t know who leaves the bead, just what it heralds; a life lost to violence. Would-be mothers kick at the beads, sending them to the gutter, down the sewage lines, hoping if no one sees it a child will be spared. Once I was such a mother. I wore my headscarf when others in my neighborhood didn’t. Religion for most here in Istanbul is a private matter, but I didn’t like my hair. The scarves in brilliant shades of green and purple looked so very pretty. (from Blue Beads)

This week I dreamed of flag poles, empty, dewy, singular poles. Grandma says it’s a sex dream. But I’m still a virgin and I think there’s more to it; there’s always more in these parts. The dream last night even showed a pole with a white flag. Ah surrendering images. It waved, it billowed, a bit inviting, almost a smile in the sky. And the face in it, lest I forget that… never! A boy’s face shown in the flag, if one can call it that.
(from Ziba)

In the interlocking limbs of two eucalyptus trees I see your soul. Can you know it’s me gazing at you from the window? Do you know I dream how it feels to be joined in wood, not flesh? I see elephant tusks and the flesh of paper in your limbs. My boyfriend calls and says 'I must stop my staring’. It’s dreaming, I say. Our limbs don’t join as mirrors like yours. Can we wait 'til we grow this close? How long did it take your right limb to match your left? Oh… you say it was a lifetime, that’s too long.
(from Eucalyptus Moonlight)

The ghost of past baths sat soaking up rays on the front lawn. Suds of yesteryear dripped off the porcelain surface of the tub. A bird chirped. Its bidding, its call, a young boy heard. He sat in the tub and raced a sailboat. A swell tipped the boy over, then moments later the boat stood upright and the boy pushed it along. Fine lines appeared on the base of the tub. A man emerged from the house and turned the bath over on its side. But the boy and the sailboat didn’t fall. They didn’t fall. They continued sailing the boat. The man ran his hands over the bottom of the tub. 'those scratches… they weren’t there yesterday. I know they weren’t there. I cleaned the tub myself’. A little boy laughed as the man dumped bleach into the tub and scrubbed with a yellow sponge.