Between three tablespoons of sickly bright orange tonic, (administered thrice daily; no more, no less) bottled in vials shaped unmistakably like grandpa‚Äôs third eye (over which eyelashes locked themselves in a permanent embrace three fortnights ago) Ammama leans in, toucan nose tickled by three errant strands of ivory (Have you seen my hair net, lately?... Continue Reading →

Starry Night

Beneath your dark eyes, there must be light Just like above the darkness, there's a starry night I'm not sure if either is real, Yet my eyes keep searching, my heart tries to feel I've tried all my life to look at the stars On the tips of my toes, I stand, but they're still... Continue Reading →

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