4 AM, February, After a Dinner: A Poem for My Future Lover
-high fives to Jet Fuel & SM & JK I am fine only having this life, a friend said at the long table. All around, winter + its elevated requirements for survival.
A miracle: even the youngest among us continues to manage loss, damage, demise, frost. But tonight, warm garlic knots +
baked penne + chicken parmigiana + baked clams + Montepulciano = words to say that we all (somehow) ended up in America
to fight for what we decide matters, i.e., more marinara, more of us in colors, though there are those among us who also enjoy lemon +
a little olive oil. This week, the State of the Union, next week, more discussion of this or that wall. Here, we say the words
practice + listen + yes + faith. Here, a glass flute of prosecco is a gallery for a kiss-print, the same pink as a strip of ribbon
I once saw tied about a soft-seeming wrist at this or that nightclub. Another friend says, I was once younger. I wanted to run
a hand over the silver bristles that adorn their moonless hair. I am relearning how to adore. I take another sip: astonishment:
all we don't know: each other's colors. Come soon, O tender disaster, O significance of another! Come quick, O summer of faith +
listen + practice + yes, I aim to be scorched by your summer storm. Or, I am the summer storm, or, I am eager
for the slaughter. I am fine sharing this knife.
-- Tarfia Faizullahis the author of two poetry collections, Registers of Illuminated Villages (Graywolf, 2018) and Seam (SIU, 2014).The recipient of a Fulbright fellowship, three Pushcart prizes, and other honors, Faizullah has also been featured at the Liberation War Museum of Bangladesh and the Library of Congress. In 2016, Faizullah was recognized by Harvard Law School as one of 50 Women Inspiring Change. Born in Brooklyn, NY to Bangladeshi immigrants and raised in Texas, she currently teaches in the Writing Program at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago as a Visiting Artist in Residence.