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•   A BIANNUAL LITERARY MAGAZINE BROUGHT TO YOU BY DESI WRITERS' LOUNGE   •

Volume 11


Prequel - January 2013


Verse

Hera Naguib

Written by
Hera Naguib

Hera Naguib has an MFA in Poetry from Sarah Lawrence College in Bronxville, New York. She has previously worked as the poetry editor of Papercuts magazine, and a Senior Reader at Sarah Lawrence College’s literary journal, Lumina. Her work can be found in The Maya Tree Liberal Arts Review and Papercuts among other publications. She is from Lahore.

        
      
       
            
              

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Afterword


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For years now, I wander you, a vagrant mist
skirting your acres of blankness. What moon

unwound in you still drags and hurls my refrain.
Tonight, your absence pelts its far seas. I wake

to explosions, delirium whirls the narrow ear
of my sail. Tell me, do you still don black shirts

to the likeness of your moods, do wisps of my spine
still sling you in iron arcs, or do I wade through your

days behind a haze? I long to jolt you with my fever
again, my fists of hurtling rocks down the sediment,

the red siren of your heart. But the grey well
of your voice tells me this is the end.

Out of my window, whose long, drawn mouth flaps
a wide cry, I watch you, a mirage anchored, masts

tall and rippling against the slopes of my thighs.

 

 

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