readers submission
POETRY / Raw Magnolias
This is a garden, these are my petals; this is my armoring plant
POETRY / I've seen love
I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood
POETRY / A means to an end
go further than/ what the hills have seen/ through their ice pick scars
POETRY / Saree
The yard in this noontime is buzzing with/ The white aroma of the guava flower
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
Jojo-Buri
the moon watches over you, when whales beach themselves, the tides wash them back home; the moon looks down
It’s a Love Story, baby just say yes
Sameer’s mother looked at her husband before quickly stepping in and attempting to defuse the situation. “You know it’s just a heritage thing. We’re not really Biharis".
Journey to Jerusalem
After our spiritual journey to the Old City and West Bank, the realities of life caught up to us.
Falastin
News from Gaza rips the heart open/ Idlib is burning too
All characters are fictitious
Suddenly, a giant shadow covered up the ground beneath their feet. When she looked up, she couldn’t see the face of the figure until it came closer and sat on the edge of the branch they were sitting on.
Ode to an ariel dancer
Clouds in heaven bow and billow around your feet, and you- glide through, oblivious to their ethereal presence.
Women’s revolution
The theocracy is crumbling in its seat
Lamp of grief
Nothing is meaningless if speech and silence fill void, flowing in the same force, and no one blocks the road to dreaming.
My van my grief
I tried to be renamed in the middle But my van and I have never been apart!
The Blanket
Suddenly, the shadow became larger on the wall. At that exact moment, something felt heavy on Farid’s chest–and got heavier by the minute. Everything was still, and in that silence, a silhouette slowly grew over Farid’s body.
