You must be the one I bumped shoulders with on the crossway.
It’s not a folktale, it was yesterday.
I believe…
I believe that every atom that has ever touched me has touched you too.
I believe the zephyr that blew against my lashes had your scent.
I believe as I am sitting here staring at the moon, you too somewhere must be chasing the moonlight.
The moon is our common.
Belief is our thing.
That’s how I am discovering you, bit by bit.
Poetry
Our Things | Khyati Maurya
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Untitled | Imon Raza
By: Imon RazaI look up at the molten evening sky, Dripping drop by drop… Upon my condemned soul. I feel the dampness of the meaningless beauty beneath my feet, I run my fingers softly through this absurdity, Only to find myself wrestling…
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War | Imon Raza
By: Imon RazaThe war has been there, I have been fighting, for a long long time. Yesterday, I got pierced by an arrow, Today I am fighting against war.
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Untitled | Imon Raza
By: Imon RazaWhen will the sun rise again? When will the stars sing again? There is a moon nearby, It is planning to leave tomorrow, I think the Universe died last night.
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Bask | JD DeHart
By: JD DeHartwant to lay on hot rocks in the baking sun across lizard pebble skin want to flick and hiss be left alone until my skin hardens teeth sharpen then crawl away.
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No More Words | JD DeHart
By: JD DeHartI spin my angry mind in every direction possible using every verb along with every swear word and byword I can think of until I reach the end of the page or the end of my linguistic assault and then…
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Who Will Stick Up For the People? | Thomas Piekarski
By: Thomas PiekarskiWhat god or king or demagogue can assure us that every countryman gets fed, that politicians be true their word, that women are afforded equal rights, that smokestacks will eventually die? Pouting about the chapter where love lost its way…
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Penury | Sada Mukhtasar
By: Sada MukhtasarI’d scrawl along margins of newsletters Forsaking the comfort of plain white sheets Stacked comfortably past my window, Slinking endlessly in the rolling press Of the Xerox machine. The hot paper rolling in the presses Would evaporate partly like coffee…
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Of A Lens Lost By a Capital | Sada Mukhtasar
By: Sada MukhtasarThen I fixed the two rickety legs (Golden as they were) Of the erstwhile tripod – much as One would do with wooden pegs – Into the sterile soil, moist from the night’s dew, And twirled the dust cap mounted…
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No Limbo | Thomas Piekarski
By: Thomas PiekarskiIt can’t be mystical, transformative or comical if it isn’t first and foremost a metaphysical mashup. For example, last night lightning swished across the coal sky’s entire width and lit the lofty horizon with a jolt of instant luminescence. How…
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Legalese | Thomas Piekarski
By: Thomas PiekarskiToo early in autumn for leaves to turn, and boats are still on mum harbor waters. I feel the warmth of an unencumbered sun as it massages my back and shoulder blades. Here at the waterfront retaining wall that bends…
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The Wax Museum | Thomas Piekarski
By: Thomas PiekarskiOn the crowded streets of modern Cannery Row visitors from around the world flock like pigeons come to boost their moods amid the candy, curios, ocean spray, hotels, seafood, music and neon signs. In the basement of an indoor boutique…
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That You Betrayed Me | Olatubosun David
By: Olatubosun DavidThat you betrayed me wasn’t a fiction I gave my first cheek to your gentle kiss And the second one to your heavy blow I gave you my heart But you draw dagger at it I was dying for love…