A Prose by METİN KAYA BİR
BRIDE WITHOUT HENNA “The weather is as heavy as lead”, knife-edge frost, a cruel winter. The nights, freezing the winter, smashing whiplike on the doors and windows. The White gauzed face of earth mother takes place in memories as if a deep, shapeless, cracked and galled lake base. The people trying to warm under very fine mattress and cannot fall […]
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