A land that pushes women to the stature of a Goddess
Is also adept at pulling them down when necessary
This reminds me of necessities that arise out of despai
A colony of ants climb the hills that reek of sweet sanity
Between my knees are bruises that never healed
Between my palms are lines of sweat that never left any empty space
‘Push, push, push’ – “It’s a moonlight wailing in birth and blood!”
How do I tell them,
That it’s the moonlight wailing at the prospect of illuminating silently, humming songs of anger that sound like sweet sanity?
It’s another bitter Goddess biting her fate, watching the poison take nefarious shapes in her throat
Until the day she takes back her throne,
Until then there’s only a sip of hope.
-Nameera Anjum Khan.