the roses have dried;
ıslak mendil var mı?
i see feet moving under the table and i think it is a cat. it could be a cat-we are outside, where cats roam freely, abundantly. i haven't yet seen a cat in this courtyard though, too busy they are finding places to hide from the sun.
a group of women talk about their grandchildren. there is a lack of wind. we feel the air stick to our skin and form a second skin. we wait for a breeze to undress us, but nothing happens. the roses have dried, the leaves hardly move and the trees no longer bend. it is the beginning of a long, hot summer.
a thin sliver of silver wrapped around my wrist holds my veins captive.
coffee rings inside a cup tell of time and pauses, conversations and silences.
after a moment, we are ready to set out again.
http://www.meryemyildiz.com/2014/06/16/the-roses-have-dried/