Inhale
By Laila Kalan
As he unzipped my gown with my consent, this time,
I inhaled all the bad memories of the past that had not been very kind.
But I’m grateful.
As my dress fell to the floor, although white, I could see shades of blue, red and pink from
the rags of my history.
I held my breath as I tried to brush the traces away with my wet eyes.
I’m grateful.
As he pulled me in closer, the sweet scent of his breath got lost in the stench of the alcohol of
the past.
I held my breath and pictured flowers in the hopes of my senses pairing.
I’m grateful.
As he pressed his lips against mine, the gentle touch somehow hurt as it had done in the
forceful nature of the past.
I held my breath and closed my eyes but not for the same reason that most do.
I’m grateful.
As he picked me up and placed me on the bed, I froze in space and time as I succumbed to
my past attempts at resisting.
I held my breath and let him in willingly, this time.
I’m grateful.
As he consummated our marriage, I exhaled all the burden of the past.
I felt lighter until he complained about the whiteness of the sheet.
He left the room in a rage and I inhaled deeply.
I am heavy again, but I’m grateful.
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Laila Kalan is a junior doctor and teacher based in Dubai. Due to her mixed ethnicity, she can write in multiple languages. She is an animal rescuer and currently hosts more than 20 cats in her warm apartment. A couple of her poems have been framed in a cafe in Oman. This is her debut publication in a magazine.
Along with her poetic words, she sends lots of love and hugs to Turkey.
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