Berra Akcan



it’s difficult to breathe underground – the air is stained, as if inhaling someone else’s sigh, straight from the mouth
the heat sticks like cherries on the skin – summer is a lustful creature – and demands the body like a lover – july, my love, my darling – I am tired, let me go – how does one create a history? – they eat another’s
why does everyone wear open-toed shoes? – how can so many women have pedicured feet? – it is on public transport that I am most arrogant, I’ve noticed –remember where you came from, Berra – you are good at blinding people, and yourself – there’ll be a day when your past shows up at your door again – like an old lover, or a tax collector (one and the same) – demanding retribution

Berra Akcan is an undergraduate student at Columbia University, majoring in classics. She has served as the editor for KTB Literary Journal for two years and has short stories and poems published in Blue Marble Review and Canvas Literary Journal. Her work has also been short-listed as a finalist for the Columbia Young Authors Writing Competition. She is currently working on the first draft of her novel.