eunoia i dug out of polaris :
i care too much / i could give my life for love,
i was born too soon / i am in the making,
telling me to tide the ache away
when i bend into today years old.
peeling pearls from god’s backbone i ask
“what does a laundered species make of its spoiled linens?”
in the space between love and place
aquarius into inherit / adopt / desire
how siddhartha’s eyes were flax flowers
& have to hold to half to home
i let fruit spoil the fetish when
the pitch pine blossoms in my heart
sprout and lace and twine and lilt
into sweet glass & i see through life and death
when the good god of time and longevity
calls belonging and acceptance
ombré stopovers and not opaque termini.
warring self-images are the broken timelines
that cosmonauts seal with gossamer blood cells
when mind and matter molt like growing bodies.
while altair has a weakness for beauty in the east,
where baby koh-i-noors, mango breath, red mouths,
& roiling grains swell and swell into wanted need,
vega on velvet brings me back to
my field notes on in-between-ism.
only when i learn to :
as in my mother’s lightroom ; henna-embroidered, milk paint arabesque,
queen-of-the-night whet & raging, balsamic waxcraft packed,
perhaps hot chai will cure this coma too.

IRTEQA KHAN is a Muslim-Canadian writer of Pakistani heritage who lives in the prairies and studies history. Her favorite things to talk about include philosophy, current events, and K-pop. She plans to either pursue a career in the legal profession as a human rights lawyer or a Ph.D. while nurturing her love for poetry, travel, and cats. Her writing has appeared in The SocietyRigorousBright Sleep MagazineSeoulbeats, and is forthcoming in The Brown Orient.