In pursuit
Of heaven I have found
the word, loop.
That is a repetition of an event
And again
Until I forget how your lips
Forgot the utterance of my name

makes me think singularity
Is the scariest truth. Loop: a queer
Innovation. We pick and choose
From a lineup, until
It is enough

It makes my heart stutter
And go wild. Heaven.
It is a feeling and I’ll stay here
Until it’s enough


-artwork by Ninad Sree


From memory.



On the day of moving, we clear
old bookshelves, wondering

which ones to give away
and which ones to keep

you reach out
stroke the back of my hair

and in passing, raise suspicison
on how things got where they are

I say nothing. Experimenting with my memory
I pick up a board of puzzles

you join in. again, sitting next to me
staring at my hands. I clear the dust.

It’s old. Really old.
I wonder how it got here.

I wonder if it has all its pieces.
and if not

which ones did it give away
and which ones did it keep.


artwork by daisukerichard

A letter to those wings!

And to the people,who live by the lane.
I write this letter, though completely in vain.

For as I see your lives end
And stare at this misery lane 
Too crowded and thick
For you to flutter your wings

And as I write to those
Dark, dull wings 
I see your hands are too busy in
Relentless labour and fruitless sin;
To cut down those wings and make some space
For your feet to carry you to your grave 
A grave buried so deep within,

That no Phoenix can rise from there again.