Reminder pops up

at the eighteenth candle

to play with creams

and laser

and weighing scale

to extract a new art

within me

to attract whoever is

willing –

to subtract the beauty

in me.

I shout at to shoo,

to play with books

and blazer

and currency,

and they yell

that they have been

in ouch.

Fathima Sanna

Immature marriage

I dig the history of my blood,

and I see a teen with half head

and a hand.

A man rises

in search of house,

and she hides and hides

into the corner.

Mamma pushes her,

and granny with a kitchen knife

over herself.

The poor silence

is trapped in the midst.

Fathima Sanna