I write my eulogy on the ceiling of my bedroom so I never have the impulse to look up. Cremation is forbidden but where else would I go? No darkness from the ground will put me to rest. Allah lütfen let me lift this body to the moon. The skyscrapers poke holes into the night & before I close my eyes. Before it’s time to leave I sit up under the covers & remember that no one wants me today. I turn the sun off; she leaves without trying to convince me otherwise. Allah, how do I grow now?
I Think This Is The Last Love Poem
When Arabella laughs it feels like
allah’s prayer in my heart
I look at her in light that
took many years to get here
& maybe that fixes all the bad
all the things that keep us awake at night
or maybe it reminds me of the future
which always keeps me awake at night
I hope I am making sense but look,
maybe this isn’t actually the last love poem
Maybe this is just the first & all the rest
were letters I was too scared to call letters
& now is the right time to tell her
about when I dreamed we were superheroes
except we called each other superhomos
& she had a purple cape that matched her suit
We made the world safer for queers
& punched transphobes in the throat
& Arabella, what I’m trying to say is
would you like to try to stop hating the world with me?
beyza ozer is a queer/trans/Muslim person living in Chicago. beyza’s work has appeared in and is forthcoming from Poetry, The Offing, the anthologies Subject To Change: Trans Poetry & Conversation (Sibling Rivalry Press 2017), Halal If You Hear Me (Haymarket 2019), and others. beyza is the author of FAIL BETTER (fog machine press 2017). They are a recipient of the Windy City Times 30 Under 30 Award. beyza is manuscript editor of Critical Inquiry published by University of Chicago Press.