Behind the Siren
- May 30, 2025
- 1 min read
by Sarp Sozdinler
Someone’s shadow stalks me on a rainy day. Asks me out on a candlelit dinner with saffron rice.
Folds herself into the steam rising off my tea. Twists my bedsheets into folds.
The shadow knows I’m obsessed with Patti Smith’s Horses. Shouts DANCE LIKE YOU MEAN IT.
Bounces on the couch like a kid. The shadow calls me her oversized mermaid.
Orders bánh mì a little too spicy for my taste. Tips in fives and tens.
Parties past dawn. Blows in my earlobes when angry.
Says now, hellcat. Close your eyes. Now, hellcat. Look down.
The shadow rides behind the sirens. Holds my hand on the altar.
A Turkish writer & poet, Sarp Sozdinler has been published in Electric Literature, Kenyon Review, Masters Review, trampset, JMWW, and Normal School, among other journals. Their work has been selected or nominated for anthologies including the Pushcart Prize, Best Small Fictions, and Wigleaf Top 50. They are currently working on their first novel in Philadelphia and Amsterdam.
