Wild Cats

1

Cheetah Mother and CubsWhen the dusk comes,
my fingertips forget borders.

Give me countries.
Give me a thousand church bells
echoing in our floorboards.

Cats were once wild
until they tamed themselves.

Let me remember.
Let me walk behind myself
to the beginning.

Where is the village
of my mother’s mother?

There, where the wild cats roamed
among almond eyes and turmeric.

I paint my hands the color of their sorrow—
the wild cats crying.

The desert does not understand.
It is a language only eyes can hear.

Within this body—
the old darkness,
the old gods.

The small breath of belonging
crying, take me.

 

Photo “Cheetah Mother and Cubs” by David Olimpio used under Creative Commons License (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0).

 




Giving = Loving. We are able to bring you content such as this through the generous support of readers like yourself. Please help us deliver words to readers. Become a regular Patreon Subscriber today. Thank you!
Share.

About Author

blank

Adelina Sarkisyan is an Armenian-American poet and writer. She has a Bachelors degree in Anthropology from the University of California, Irvine and a Master of Social Work from the University of Southern California. Her writing has been in Two Hawks Quarterly, Atticus Review, elephant journal, Over the Moon Magazine, Rebelle Society, and Tattooed Heroine Magazine, as well as exhibited with Angeleno Artistry and Zenith Art Studio. Adelina was born in Armenia and currently dwells in Los Angeles, California between the desert and the deodar trees. She chases ghosts, hoards books, sneaks into museums, dances ballet, and romances the muse. She is currently working on a poetry chapbook, short stories, and a novel.

1 Comment

%d bloggers like this: