Solo to bird phoenix


 I know you can see through my body,

its soft little bones
its heart-shrill rhythm.

I forget how astral everything is,


that my suffering is equivocal to my orchard, the number of orange fruits that exist.


I love the way your beak is pierced with a thousand holes like a flute.

Each opening has a different sound, each sound is a secret.


Phoenix, I tried to rip the skin off a snake instead of letting it moult.
I tried to block sunlight with my body
save a fly from a swimming pool.


I’ve tried to live my life in one breath.
Tried rebirth,
reared myself to live quietly
beside a shoal of wild demons.


I trust I am a butterfly dreaming as a woman, the fact there are realized beings.


Don’t tell Oaba, Baba joon
about my drinking
rainwater through dirt.


About my opening the door to death like a boathouse.
That I am only water mixed with dust.
That we are just something rather than nothing.
That the world might persuade you of otherwise.


is a British born Persian/Roma poet from South London. She is studying an MA in Creative Writing at UEA after receiving the Birch Family Scholarship. Her work has been featured in Bath magg, Riggwelter Press and The Manchester Review.



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