One of the Ways I Knew
One of the ways I knew was that
when that storm rolled in off of the Bosphorus,
in all of its rage and glory,
lighting up the Kadikoy skyline
and booming through the backstreets of Besiktas,
all I could think of
was how much she would have loved it.
Sure, I was astounded by its breadth and beauty,
drank my Bomonti and marveled at its sudden force,
but to have witnessed it without her
was a loss we’d never reclaim.
A storm like that happens only once.
However much I may have already missed her,
the thought, even, of her absence awoke me
--she was the only one on my mind,
and that’s one of the ways I knew.
Ryan made the mistake of studying philosophy. He has many questions and few answers. He once asked a seagull what it was passionate about. It squawked, snatched his lahmacun and flew away.