Our lives are happening elsewhere, neatly laid out in a symmetric ballad. I do not have the same pleasures, You do not have the same fears.  We have abandoned washing oursins in the rivers and creating eddies of our tears inside teacups. Are theremiracles still suffused in our days? Yes. We gather them by the armful and plant them into the rich... Continue Reading →

Three Poems

Sunday Afternoons are Escaping The Sunday afternoon dips its toes quietly in rose water and stays there looking at the purple flowers escaping from stories inside books. They overstayed in their desire to be found and when no one came, slipped away to find new homes, peeping into this poem, that mosque, this hill where... Continue Reading →

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