Author: Shazia

Mother Tongue

Mother Tongue

I am of love and roots and everything in between. As the yellow ochre of the
to the man who stole my skin

To the Man Who Stole My Skin

On the days when I sleep under your eyelids, I dream. I wash my crumbling face
Sea Salted Caramel

Sea Salted Caramel

I came to the kitchenTo chop tomatoesBut my mother said,You dice them,Like rolling your fate across,A
My Heart is a Pallindrome

Her Heartbeat is a Palindrome

I am a woman who,  Isn’t a woman,  Half woman, whole liar,  Half poetry, whole halves, 


I am Dostoyevsky’s midnight fever, And Whitman’s lakeside rambles. I am Van Gogh’s washed brush tip, 
Scroll to Top