Issue3

Milk-made The steaming cup of milk smells like mother; loved, craved, never enough. Flitting between monthly choices—Boost, Bournvita, maybe Milo. Chocolate always makes milk better.  She loved milk, not sweetened or browned,  just pureness poured into the big stainless-steel vessel at 6 am sharp, forcing her to wake up early on Sundays and holidays, a … Read moreThree Poems by Aishwarya Javalgekar

Palm Harbor: 1am It’s not that I aim to be sad in Florida It’s that Florida doesn’t want to see me happy This apartment these walls- carry too much  the weight of loss My innocence still lingers in the air here  There on the window sill  and in the picture frame Behind the lamp But … Read morePalm Harbor: 1am by Moses Jeune

What if I was never here أنا مغتربة  I am displaced.  If you search for me  in history books,  my name  would be imperceptible.  The historian knew I was here, here I was   when he said to me:  once you leave the land the land leaves you.  Damascus’ soil no longer  will recognize  my foot … Read moreWhat if I was never here by Nour Al Ghraowi

marathon around my religion “worship” says my mother.  her raised palms hold buckets of wishes she’s asked God to fulfill  and i find mine emptier than a beggar’s bowl right before the jummah prayer.  i try to imagine my folded legs above a white cloud talking to God to let me in.  let me fill … Read moremarathon around my religion by Zarnab Tufail