by Ananya Sahoo I. “Beds are meant to be woken up from, Not misused as a sanctuary.” Sunlight slices through my windowtill my eyes smart.My pillow smells like dandelions in a faraway mystical land. Just five more minutes… Read More »Grounding
by Kristin Camitta Zimet You’ve cut out a hole. You can’t know,as the dog can’t guess where you wenton the other side of the back doorfor four days, though you almost think he must, because he… Read More »Mending
by Ananya Sahoo TW: Sexual Abuse I. I don’t check under the bed anymore. Did you know evil looked human,And ate dinner at your table? One hand on the cutlery, another on my frill clad thigh,Is this why… Read More »Sugar Crash
by Snehal Amembal I always sought solace in three fourths You, my fussy toddler would play havoc with my nervesMe, second-guessing, hoping you’d eatA bowl of porridge A plateful of rice A slice of fruit An almost round chapatti You… Read More »He Ate Three-Fourths
by Ananya Sahoo TW: Sexual assault I. Aren’t broken lips aphrodisiacs? It’s date night and I wore your favorite shade of lilac lipstick.See? It matches my left eye perfectly. And Tuesday’s ‘discussion’ is peeping out shylyFrom beneath… Read More »Aphrodisiac
A tower has two stories. The top floor window depicts a woman wrapped in black. Her hair is ragged and her expression distraught but the most striking thing about her is her wild, piercing cry… Read More »Next in Line
by Fatima Ijaz The story of almost recedesIn the night of shade trees.Once or twice I felt youstood there waiting for me as usual butit was my fancy. Have I ever told youThe night of the… Read More »3/4 Her
by Yusra Amjad when my cat died, he almost didn’t.the day before his last he was strongerthan ever, the purr back in his throat andthe happy squint back in his eyes. that is howi think… Read More »Almost
by Afshan Shafi I have always seen it so;The mind in a silver bowlAt once uninhabitable andAvid for fleece, bridle, orSome scientific flummoxing. When the pandemic’s long red wavesFirst began to bellow, I drew out a… Read More »I Have Left the Mind
by Yusra Amjad in what language do you suggest we write Pakistan?for seventy five years, seventy five tongues have failed to unite Pakistan. bengal was already bitter when hafeez jallandri penned the qaumi taranadid he… Read More »75