i read one of Zoha’s poem in Noble Gas Quarterly, & the pulse of their thump was felt, she has that rare ability to write lines like
my rage screams the dark
to life, phoenix
fury imported
from the same land my chains were
shipped from.which are so full of strength & energy they almost break from my laptop scream & choke me with their power.
From Gwen to Zorya, closer and closer
to home but always a white breath
away, defiant
breath away; you put your one desi foot in and you take your
blasphemous, illegal foot
out and you shake
this conflict of identity about and that’s
what never belonging
is all about, always
half too much.
Sun-whole passing for green crescent if
she keeps her face smooth and
her dupatta low enough to hide the resistance
and the rainbow,
catastrophic awareness set to a flicker that won’t attract any moth-boys – ashes
to ashy,
fetishization to dust – but
the flare of my rage screams the dark
to life, phoenix
fury imported
from the same land my chains were
shipped from.
God
came riding foreign aid and
led the coup against my rights. Belief was
bearded and demanded
my kin slay my kin and I
watched faith grab her children and run
from…
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