Alycia Pirmohamed is a Ph.D. candidate at the University of Edinburgh and received her M.F.A. from the University of Oregon. Her poems have recently appeared or are forthcoming in Prairie Schooner, Grain Magazine, Dogwood: A Journal of Poetry and Prose, wildness, and Flying South Literary Magazine.
Say the word dark
translates to how I fold my body
like a fig
against a stippled moon.
Pull a string of sorrows from
my mouth.
Remind me that I am not a swan —
I am a long night of rain
with my mother's eyes.
Hold my tasbih to my heart.
Imagine we are
elk walking into tall grass.
This dream is the sky opening,
this dream is a river of faces.
This dream is all of the pine trees
replaced with smoke.
I call out to the water and the wind
scatters my thoughts,
fashions distances within me.
I call out Allah —
if I look up, I see a ghost
in the canopy.