Image
Borders
I know its shape—
my not-country
faraway home.
I know the space
it takes
the snail head
of Tabriz
at the top,
bulbous
spiral of the rest.
I've known
for decades
without knowing,
the way I didn't know
what countries touch
the tender neck,
the belly or the shell
except Iraq
because my cousins
hoped not to die
on that front.
Created by The Wick Poetry Center
Sponsored by Ohio Arts Council
Poem by Farnaz Fatemi
From Sister Tongue
Design by Hannah Saadey ©2022