Listen to Mahaila Smith read Do I Know You:
It’s cold.
Are you hungry?
I’m lonely.
I’ll get you a bagel.
Where do I know you from?
Here, for you.
From the TV,
You know my wife? (Are you, is it you)
no
Sorry I’m bad at faces, I’m
my name moves
down one square
each crossword morning.
Adriatic, DNA.
Found new shoes
in my locker at the pool.
Analogue watch in the left one.
What’s your size? 27 years.
3³
cheese and crackers for when you’re
Hungry?
Tired,
knitting. (I’ll give
up and pull out a yarn nest.
Cut it up and mail it,
answer: What are you making?)
Like two hand piano scales when
you were little.
I think I heard you
when the violins were tuning.
Before you called? Et après.
We’ll say I love you at the end.
Lucky for me,
don’t know you, well.
Mahaila Smith is a young writer from Ottawa, studying to dig. Her poems can be found in the Hart House Review, and in Half a Grapefruit.
This work appears in the Winter 2020 edition of the UC Review: Translation.