By Sumyrah Afreen Khan

I’m here

I am dreaming of empty mountains basking in silent sunlight and surreptitious dew drops.

A moment before the day wakes up and it no longer belongs to us—

I am still prolonging the midnight sea,

the waves of your skin still try to catch up to us. 

The townspeople have begun cropping the overgrown, but there is no civility over me. 

I won't allow it. 

You get softer as the day progresses— 

but there is still some continuity left for a while, right before the horizon hits the tinted glass now, 

I have a moment that just belongs to us now—Us.

To wake up and choose this conspiracy that brought us together. 

And now the cottage moss has grown over my toes. I chase you through fields of green and white for now and through time.

The townspeople have retreated and the pastures have changed. 

The midnight sea has come to meet us again.

and I haven’t woken in years.

Paces

Absence of light and a lonely lamp side 
I write them in its warm solace but please read them by daylight
Corners of my room 
Ten paces from 
an empty staircase
where we heard songs in silence 
It refuged, an island
Borrowed a quietness from the party
A hushness stepped in 
The swaying to the chaos 
An unlit cigarette hung midair
Who measured themselves
Who came up short?
We were running
no one was pacing 
Who’s to blame?
Staircase, and it's calamitous waves were home
The stairs still lead to you 
But the yearning only happens in the absence
I retract my paces 
and I'm back to where I am by daylight.

Don’t be a stranger

Sometimes I sit atop a tree, right when the sun brings its synthesis
to see things as they are and not as they should be.
Recluse observers 
unaware mingling
meanders going about their day, to be forgotten for a  while
I disappear, when no one is looking
Oh, as if I never was, never been—
The state resumes, moments dissociate
One arm's distance at best
An old man and his cautionary tales weaved in  uninterrupted ancient melodies
‘Quick, it will pass you by,’ he screams. 
Up at the sky but he finds you instead
The wild dogs cry out the same thing
But who has time to pace the things that seem to reside  in sanctity? 
You get a few points for trying.
One day at a time 
You get sick of things at least once
And you go on anyway 
It’s a nighttime and the birds are back 
time to vacate their space—
They are done with their shift with strangers for the day.

Sumyrah Afreen Khan is a social science researcher and a poet. She has recently published her first poetry collection, titled Let alone hope. She started modelling at 17, and is an activist for Muslim women’s rights. She is affiliated to organisations such as LedBy Foundation, a Harvard University initiative focussed on Muslim women. She writes about women's experiences in editorial pieces on their platforms.

Banner image by Cristi Goia is downloaded from Unsplash.com