طباق [إلى إدوارد سعيد] Antithesis (To Edward Said)
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طباق [إلى إدوارد سعيد] Antithesis (To Edward Said)

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PURPLE POLLEN RAIN… ANEMONES by Magda Indigo
Stop writing
about the mouth: the tongue, the holy molars, the wear of grinding yourself to bone. Stop writing about the mouth: his mouth, your mouth, her mouth.
— Natalie Scenters-Zapico, from “He Has an Oral Fixation,” published in Poetry
Sudanuprising ✌✌✌ #تسقط_بس
By Dua
i walked away from myself. in kniving silence.
before there was you +i. before there was
here + there. you came with a. mouth prostrate.
before tangerine light. thrice we cry. wild and
slow. but palms always hugging elbows. i grieve a
language i do. not know. you grieve a father who
only cut. you without words. vessels of flowers.
open for satin.
— meryem nuh, lovers trying to heal each other

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Come on, we do know why they don’t teach us that.
Sofia Podestà
I used to miss desire, but that was eons ago. I used to miss the sound of my voice, but that was before I pulled my name from my throat like a pit and set fire to the field of my face.
— Claire Wahmanholm, from “Where I Went Afterward,” Wilder
04:58am.
my skin feels lighter.
i stretch. orange zest. on my breath.
warm bite. into mouth of apple. supple.
bold geography of my body. in velvet lush.
dawn teetering. on my lips.
i pluck the nightfire. from my hair. douse.
in olive. in coconut. in karkade.
drink. of adhaan + itr. spine swelling.
a chorus orchard of beginnings.
— meryem nuh, begin again (there is time)
I’ve taken so much that my hands are heavy with having. My wants reach the ceiling. And I’m afraid there’s no—Oh, no my hard-limbed love, my tame sigher, please understand there’s barely even room for me.
— Paige Lewis, from “Diorama of Want,” published in wildness

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that night. he sat next to me. rushing slowly. in yellow dusk. spun in gold glass. passion of citrus tongue. cloying and cutting. doe iris staring in harmony with his mouth. — meryem nuh, his portrait
home. the ground in me. a dust jewel. halfway here|there. “half Kashmiri between two Kashmiris.” a friend’s voice echoes in jest. ho roshan-o-azad tera gulsitan, jaanan. my mother's honey knifed words to me. words of lover’s sin. soaked in karkade. why does home. always keep running in blood feet away from me? — meryem nuh, qismat and roots
chanting in gold soaked honey. my skin stretching back to memory. asking. of chords. blooming wide open. feeling you push against almost there body. a committed hunger for the flesh. not always mine. — meryem nuh, i remember|when did you cheat on me?
sound of bodies. rushing in two waters. silk skin. the clemency of ivory. crescendo hanging by a thread. wet sunset of a garnet peach. inside a lavender lamp. looking through trembling forest. soaking in quartered light. — meryem nuh, ‘suspended daydream’
Return to Magenta, Vinnoth Krishnan

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Insha Allah Khan ‘Insha’ agyaar se karte ho mere saamne baatein mujh par yeh lage karne naya tum sitam achha jo shakhs muqim-e-raah-e-dildaar zahid firdaus lage na un ko na baagh-e-iram achha translation // you talk to strangers now in front of me this new injustice a fitting one you are inflicting on me the person who is a traveler of the path of love, oh priest nor paradise nor the garden of Eden pleases him
Oh not as if evening had found me. Or even the winter rushing. Get up, get up. You are to walk and talk again, and breathe, and move. And breathe.
— Jorie Graham, from “Spelled from the Shadows Aubade,” The Errancy: Poems