In a Dream I Speak Perfect Mandarin

Saba Keramati

This is my daughter, my mother says : I understand her. The person she is

introducing me to : vague shape of a person, perhaps made up

of broken seashells : the sound of fractured edges toned 

into some melodic hum : the ringing

of a singing meditation bowl. Or else : some overripe blackberries,

the weight of themselves squishing each other, leaving behind

a trail of blackberry juice. It matters not : the person has no face

of incredulity. No shock that I do not look like my mother. No darting eyes back and forth

between the two of us : searching for proof. I have languaged myself into someone 

with more perfect ears : someone who can hear truths in a different tongue. 

The figure tries to speak : 

a swarm of bees : a crash of waves :