Poems by hiraeth

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  • And I draw breath, parting myself down
    the seam like a hairline fracture forming...

  • I, who has nothing,
    but the remnants of your...

  • Around three in the morning
    your soul was still fluttering...

  • Outlier (2) 4

    Are you still there?
    I did something horrible, and not the...

  • In April,
    I was one...

  • Epiplexis (3) 6

    And of all roots –
    I’ve eschewed yours...

  • dip your fingers in the blood-red skies like you...
    with alta dye – tonight, i will study your hands...

  • Wash the sins out of my ribcage with downpour,
    the monsoon cannot swell fast enough to abate...

  • Shall we feast on the carousel of words that
    I will prepare in your honour, tonight...

  • how cruel of april? to barge in with anger in her...
    and you’re still there in the morning...

  • tell me why
    i feel more holy in your palms...

  • untitled. (1) 1

    you are like the stirring waters of the sea,
    salt-wind licks your hair and tousles it in...