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Afshan Amin Mohammad

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Biography

I love the chocolate and coffee stained pages of my books, the fragrance of the rain mixed with soil, laughter of children, wrinkled hands of the elderly when there's nothing to hide and you can easily tell the depth with which they have loved and lost...that life hasn't been easy on them either.

Empty Vessel

Moulded with imperfections, chiselled with the ache of struggle to forget, cured with lessons rarely remembered. You're an addiction. Crack open, but they are only shards of my reflection. It is not you. It is the idea of you. So intensely fragile, yet deeply ingrained. How to forgive myself Lingering onto what I cannot resist? Mercy, release me from this need, Help me set my thoughts free.

The Other Side

Walking down the street, my hand in my pocket. It's better this way. Alone. Unlike the half-hearted hand-holding you offered. A simpleton could reason, this was not love’s path. Yet I walked on with conviction, and you doubted me in silence. Each time our hands clasped together, they drifted apart in the midst of c r o s s i n g the road. I would wave to you on the other side. Go on, this time I have decided to stay back.

Ardent Prayer

An ardent prayer in a crowdedspace. A thousand gaping mouths that judge and blame. But tonight, my heart is not the same. Hear my silent words, in the deafening echo of yearning. They dissected my words, but he recognized my drunken spirit. We exchanged glances and walked outside the door. At a crossroad of l l u o & g s i t c What is the difference between Stoup and chalice? A concoction that we dissolved and drank. My thoughts gave birth to a perception. A furrow, a tear, a smile. It was a face, Our soul.

Botany Lessons

Today, he taught me the science behind why love is a verb. This was without haste, This was without inhibitions. This was tender, like a healer's hand. This was a need for my survival. A practice test, a viva, a demonstration of the dissection, a prerequisite for labelling the diagram. He handed me the flower, looking straight into my eyes. It used to be a bud, that blossomed into a prunus persica, peachtree flower. Its nectar, so sweet. I felt the petals, with my fingertips, a gentle rub, caressing its softness against my cheek. This is the stamen, the pollen sac. These are the masculine features of the flower. To distract him from the lesson, I began to peel the petals: “He loves me, He loves me, knot.” He quickly pinpointed, That is you. This is the ovary, the most treasured part, that bears the fruit. How the garden outside the window, turned the barren land into fertile soil. Just us two are enough. Within us, the philosophy of botany. Try the peach, Sink your teeth into the flesh, now suck the nectar. I gazed at the wonder of how simple the act is and yet amazed at the signs for those who contemplate.

Equinox

I rise at dawn to go sober to the sugared festival and pray intoxicated for the fulfillment of your joy and abundance. As they remain oblivious to how the world spins, Jamshed of Persia laughs out loud: The sun kisses the equator today. The exact division of day and night, that even man-made time cannot define. Who knows the mysterious ways of God? Let's go to the temple, church or mosque like a believer, or seek the deepest nook within like a pagan. Did you forget, it is Nawroz today? The radiance of our prayers will soon be answered. Just ask and a thousand doors will be opened

Re-written

Editing, repeating, misunderstanding, replaying those sound bites. Let me confide in you in silence. Pay you in kisses. Greet me with those hazel eyes, I'll meet you with ruby lips. You can shove that cash to the "qualified". They distorted and labelled my story. For all the wars I've been in, And the love lost, this time I'll write my own story, an immortal history .

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