Today's poem is by Perla Kantarjian

i cut this hairself
       

it had been long with steady waters
in your eyes, all tide suspended safe

into anatomic place. no thought was a spit
of fire now. no burn was a body.

you had turned your face to this new sun
and bathed well in its rested luster.

on the morning you were to escape
home, mother was changing

the waters of the farewell
bouquet. remember, she had said, the secret

to keep them alive
is to cut off a bit from the stems—

you remember this as you stand
in a borrowed bathroom trimming

your split ends on the day a war
has begun in a country other than your

own. the scissor snips your finger
in the attempt and you watch the cut—

how like a confession
it breaches the skin into two.

but tonight your blood is
but three dots on a white sink.

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Copyright © 2023 Perla Kantarjian All rights reserved
from Black Warrior Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission