Nostalgic by Nadira Sayyida It was the last gift you gave me. A bag of seeds. We spent days tending
Somewhere between power trip and power failure, I exist—in a cold dark place full of warmth—or heat—I dance like water
These walls tremble with silence. They know nothing of this fear. …that fear you get deep in your gut, in
For a moment, I thought it best to shatter that green glass slipper—instead, I tucked it away, beneath my lonely