she swims      in—

                       visible worlds

matter :           common tongue      length

                                              of bay            leaves

                                                                    fallen

dry                   pages  turn             margins to

letter                —she—         reads absence :

                                              a space you haven’t yet filled

with   breath—                       counts

four :

                      one : before you

                      two : swallows nest

                      three : a document in madness

                      four: you who long for things

past               replica                          pirate ship

           wrecked        ruins   of—

                                           naming conventions :

           she dreams that she speaks
           the lines of the sea

deciphers                  currents
code :

that the view is more splendid

            if you would come
four days

for                   breath              space

we                   have                made

             for more—

each     century                       decoding

begins                           again

             —she—

stars     her        skin

                                     —not—

sea’s     surface            like lit

back                   wards            against

incessant           click-clack—

 

              water    and      air
constellate

—her body—      shell    wave  spray of foam

                                       passage

through               time     gate

             way        cast     a—

way       ward      glance a

way       word      spell    a

             way        out—

nothing                in        half

an emotion is—
keşke

why       she        stopped

dyeing her hair

             —she— pauses :          this is hard for me because I get frustrated
                                                   this is hard for me because I’m hungry
                                                   this is hard for me because I am sad
                                                   this is hard for me because I am alone
                                                   this is hard for me because I have a lot of questions
                                                   this is hard for me because I get distracted
                                                   this is hard for me because I have doubts
                                                   this is hard for me because—

           shadows        water

                                 always
through it        and

             not               with it—

 

does     imagine—

 

 

 


Jennifer A. Reimer, assistant professor in the Department of American Culture and Literature at Bilkent University in Ankara, Turkey, received her PhD in Ethnic Studies from the University of California, Berkeley in 2011, and her MFA in Writing from the University of San Francisco in 2005. She is the 2011 winner of the Gloria E. Anzaldúa Award for Independent Scholars, awarded by the Women’s Committee of the American Studies Association. In addition to over a decade of experience mentoring and teaching students in two of the world’s premier research universities, Jennifer has numerous scholarly and creative publications. Her first prose poetry book, The Rainy Season Diaries, was released in 2013 by Quale Press. She is the co-founder and co-editor of Achiote Press, an independent press dedicated to spotlighting underrepresented authors and artists. A proud native Californian, Jennifer enjoys weekends on the Mediterranean coast, where the raki, like the poetry, is abundant.