Soothed, Iced; I Long

By: Aisha Al-Tarawneh

Whose comets are those that scream across the heavens?
I don’t know, I don’t, and childhood dreams whisper into
My mouth, lip on lips, spilling cosmonaut orange onto my
Tongue the way Yura tumbled all the way down to earth,
Clad in a nation’s hope and pride– there are stars peering,
Shy, upon a wooded land– the river Lena smiles her winding
Smile up at the heavens, and I bow down to splash her beaming
Giddiness up at my face in a desperate need, a want for
Ice to soothe the fires flaming behind my eyes, licking at the
Insides of my skull, tips of flame knocking blind, dumb faces
Against bone; I tremble from top to bottom, shivering, shaky
In the face of futures spent, twirling time spilling out hourglasses
And the way I throw myself carelessly into glacier pools
Echo the way I peel back memories to reveal white flesh,
Like a fruit darkening on the outside with sooted lives,
And how Laika whined her last breath in the heat of Sputnik,
Heroic, little paws curled up beneath her in her final distress;
I curl up in the heat of a burning psyche, and long for iced pasts.


Aisha Al-Tarawneh is a nineteen-year-old student, studying the preparational faculty at RUDN, from Denmark and Jordan. She enjoys writing poetry in her free time, as well as reading Robert Ludlum and Fyodor Dostoevsky. Her favourite book genres include historical thrillers, and WWII-era novels.

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