The B-Sides of the Golden Record, Track Seven: “Love Poem with Prosopopoeia”

I once lay on a floor
while a woman
dangled a speaker
from a wire,
and from that speaker
came the sounds
of a black hole,
and into that black hole
I imagined sending
a sound of my own,
low and tremulous,
so I could sing along
with gravity.
In my dreams, I scream
at the forest’s shoreline,
and after a brief, velvet
pause, the forest
screams back.
It means something:
to know you are alone,
and then to learn
that you are wrong.

One Refugee Poet's Origin Story

Today, someone will ask me / to write about war. / And I can write about it / because I am alive now.

First Prayer

Into my home, invited Anahita, divinity of waters / of giving me my daughters