December 11, 2017

Art by Lily Bell

Tragedy of Your Dystopia

Your taste lingers ad nauseam on my tongue, my lips, 

my thigh, at the back of my neck, 

on the reckless lines of my palm, 

and in forbidden places one-too-many; 

where perfidies of Holy Scriptures cannot reach,

so you do not taste li...

September 11, 2017

Where’s my independence?

1947 brought a different independence

Than the novella in my head:

Where heroines dressed like themselves

But were accorded the valor of heroes.

Where an aimless drifter was a woman with matted hair

But the word “witch” did not exist in village air


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