Read Poem: BLUE, by Venus Bayat

Your blood could have been blue

When you were cutting your wrist,

The sea would have flown into the river

And the cloud would have gone back to the rain

You were a collection of inner contradictions

With inflamed red vessels

And blue blood.

Talking with you was continuous,

When damn Iraqi tanks

Had moved on Sara’s doll

And you were not yet convinced that

Sara can breathe without her doll.

Your lips could have opened the door

Which some unrelated words have been poured outside of it

Or your eyes…

Your eyes could have been blue

To be hung behind the door

And stave off the danger.

Your left foot could have been behind my room,

Which does not know how to knock the door.

Or your hand…

Which you left its fingers between my fingers.

You are a collection of inner contradictions

That when you are nervous,

Your blood can be blue.