Tag Archives: Munira Tabassum Ahmed

for my mother the institution of motherhood is slicked strong and holy. amma tells me i was born around midday, a good time, a couple weeks too early but the right time to meet the world. she cleaved an old … Continue reading →

/ i, a body of water / once, i turned into a river, constantly burying the silt around me. a motion most akin to mourning: the slick rhythm of burial and temporary life, but here, mourning mimics love. this, a … Continue reading →