May 9, 2023 - “Blowfish” by Rahil Najafabadi

BLOWFISH

I have holes on my spirit­­––Some people see them,
some see the clear rain through them. Who are you?
The look of love sticks to my memory at night.
Yet inside, the long past stretches the hours
until midnight. When a blowfish encounters danger,
it puffs up to double its size. When I lay down in bed,
by myself, where the past meshes with right now,
I, too, become two people. Stuck in one body,
I stay unsweetened and my sleep escapes.
One of the two selves I contain stays awake,
poisoning the other. My sheets shroud me once
I sleep altogether, and we come together again­­––
Both of us: me and you, the past and the present,
the night and after midnight, poison, and the light.