insignificant as the yellow lichen on a rock,
they draped me over the world.
in the soil of those who perished in the river’s flow,
they tucked my pink skin into wallets
while my atoms could endure no touch at all.
the frosting on your cake, an icon of an infant,
tasting of cream cheese,
my hide, cloaked in the high-definition protection of the marketplace,
i was an economic lamb, shoved outside the frame.
a cracked pomegranate bud in babylon,
as distant as a silvery moon
i became one with the honey in your trap.
ebtween the covenant and the gospel,
I was a gift promised to Abraham,
dying and rising again, every single saturday.
returning home?
only the ghost stirs.
*Moloch: A deity figure in Jewish tradition, associated with child sacrifice, a demanding and destructive force.
English Translation by Mesut Şenol