Image
Borders
I know its shape—
my not-country
faraway home.
I know the space
it takes
the snail head
of Tabriz
at the top,
bulbous
spiral of the rest.
I've known
for decades
without knowing,
the way I didn't know
what countries touch
the tender neck,
the belly or the shell
except Iraq
because my cousins
hoped not to die
on that front.
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Poem by Farnaz Fatemi
From Sister Tongue
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