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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    My mother tended her first yield tender, with slender fingers interlocked in a cradle placed over her ripe stomach, the calluses raised from farm labor serving as little pillows for her son. The first time she felt the quake underneath her flesh— the little feet, the kicking feet that w...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Your midnight eyes, black like kabba stone, rise in the morning. Behind your palm frond lashes and thick veil, You can still see the men who worship and love you No better than the sand beneath their feet. You are The rib of Adam The cohort of serpents The scorn of God The temptress of men...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Oh Sylvia, Did you really think you were fated to endure hell in life, Rather than in death? Did you look into that cavern, Cloaked in smoke from imperceptible flames, Bathed in the red glow from behind the racks, Smelling the cloying scent of gas And see yourself? Did the darkness of that g...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    The prettiest girl with no eyebrows Stares from across the room, Still as a picture. Thin lips painted in a coy smile and Pressed tight over a secret. Her beckoning eyes draw me forward To touch her elegant frame, but… Your French bodyguards got in the way. Otherwise, You know I would...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    Like the North Star, Love should be found at the end Of the Dip Between your hips and your stomach. Love that I should gather In my hands and imbibe in myself, Feeding solitude and wretched hopes With the raging, hormonal lust Of young men. I wanted a love stemming From the desires in ou...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I found a home For you and me Between two young Sapling trees. Across them I pulled My heartstring taut. A weave of our lives I carefully wrought. The gales, they shudder, Yet still we cling To our webbéd abode, This precious thing. But heavy it grows And riddled with tears. It ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    My mother tries to forget her country past The village of her childhood The fields of rice wrapped around the hills The muddy pigs everywhere The chicken and children one too many But it is like covering the water stain on our hardwood floors with a Persian rug She says She is a big ...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    Like the North Star, Love should be found at the end Of the Dip Between your hips and your stomach. Love that I should gather In my hands and imbibe in myself, Feeding solitude and wretched hopes With the raging, hormonal lust Of young men. I wanted a love stemming From the desires in ou...
  • Fiction > Realistic Fiction
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    It has been raining since 2 PM today. And she has not stopped crying. If “love” is synonymous with “tears”, then Mom should buy more tissues from Costco. She cried when she didn’t have him, when she was drowned in him, when she was dumped by him. Dumped. As if he took a s*** on her. I...

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