By Neira Kadić
If I were to ever write a poetry book
I dream of you opening it
the way one opens a cookbook
and ready to treat my words
like recipes for new meals
I'd want you to read it the way a stranger in a big city
studies a tourist map
ready to explore
and anxious about finding all the right spots and all the right places
I'd want you to close my book
the way my grandma closes Qur'an late at night
after you found yourself deep in its pages
-your truest self-
and after you realized its biggest truth
is that all things divine sleep in you.
How do I fit a cookbook, a map and the holiest of truths
in a secret, whispered message of divinity?
If I were to ever write a poetry book,
I'd have to burn it before it burns me alive.