readers submission

POETRY / Cyan is my name when I talk about you

I'm tired of living with this nagging thought that we'll cross paths someday, /You and I

POETRY / A Desire or death eats away at my corpse. You are basking in the sun

Do you want my hands/ Will they be enough to keep you warm

POETRY / Sleepy ghost flight

You have made ice out of my heart;/ we were once nothing–you brutalise me

FICTION / The smell

“Stop mocking me, Atif! I am telling you there is something here.” 

POETRY / To the Newton of Gaza

Words were never my greatest strength/ But the arsonist's child will read them

FICTION / The last crime against humanity

The only way they chose to do this was probably written or imprinted in our genes–a wild frenzy of carnal expressions filled their faces.

POETRY / My Parents’ Window

Years later, when I would no longer live in my parents' room and grow to have my own,/ I would disregard all the hours I had spent by the window staring at beetles hiding.

FICTION / Interim

That was the first time in my life I’d smelled charred meat. I could tell it was different from the kind you’re supposed to eat, and my mother had to hold me as I threw up violently on the side of the street.

POETRY / Love is a law

For once, can love look like a Sunday morning; filled with warmth, calmness and motionless?

April 20, 2024
April 20, 2024

Cyan is my name when I talk about you

I'm tired of living with this nagging thought that we'll cross paths someday, /You and I

April 4, 2024
April 4, 2024

A Desire or death eats away at my corpse. You are basking in the sun

Do you want my hands/ Will they be enough to keep you warm

March 21, 2024
March 21, 2024

Sleepy ghost flight

You have made ice out of my heart;/ we were once nothing–you brutalise me

March 20, 2024
March 20, 2024

The smell

“Stop mocking me, Atif! I am telling you there is something here.” 

March 20, 2024
March 20, 2024

To the Newton of Gaza

Words were never my greatest strength/ But the arsonist's child will read them

March 2, 2024
March 2, 2024

The last crime against humanity

The only way they chose to do this was probably written or imprinted in our genes–a wild frenzy of carnal expressions filled their faces.

March 2, 2024
March 2, 2024

My Parents’ Window

Years later, when I would no longer live in my parents' room and grow to have my own,/ I would disregard all the hours I had spent by the window staring at beetles hiding.

February 17, 2024
February 17, 2024

Interim

That was the first time in my life I’d smelled charred meat. I could tell it was different from the kind you’re supposed to eat, and my mother had to hold me as I threw up violently on the side of the street.

February 7, 2024
February 7, 2024

Love is a law

For once, can love look like a Sunday morning; filled with warmth, calmness and motionless?

January 20, 2024
January 20, 2024

A Dream Of Gaza

What happens when your desire Lies in being alive?

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