Poetry | شعر

"Untitled" by Nour Mouslim rearview mirrorimagesechoesa small boycroucheson pavementskinnyboxes of Chicletsfor salespillingonto his lapknees pulled uptears windingrivulets downgrimed cheekswedged betweencars…

they are so close they are a body and its ghost blossom and its branch   her own arcing over…

for Joseph Delore   We are a mystery to our children— we befuddle them with our excitability, how we live…

it is not a sin to want to feel, everything, full and fervent. to feel the inside of my head.…

When there is no tomorrow The happiest place on earth, or The last place you want to go is At…