By Sarp Sozdinler

Mama got cancer. Bummer. I’m eleven, going on twelve. Making shit of my time. Time is still a friend to me but an enemy to my mother. It’s because I grew up too fast, she tells me, and I can’t tell if she’s joking. It’s because your sun is in Cancer.

By Sarp Sozdinler

“I lift my mother’s urn high to show her the places she’d never seen inside the house when she was alive.”

By Sarp Sozdinler

“Basking in a carnival that never folds its tents. In this vision, dogs wear monocles and deliver telegrams scented with lavender and loss.”

By Sarp Sozdinler

“I went into the woods as a man and came back as a tree. My arms are gnarly and twisting like a branch. My feet are root-like. My heart is bark.”