torn pages…
the sound of her voice
breaking apart

He tells me not to scream, not to shout, not to complaint of pain, not to tell him to stop. No, I am not supposed to fight back.
I must obey him, after all he wants to love me.

They tell me to shut my mouth, not to say a word about him to anyone. I cannot reveal this secret, it might ruin family’s reputation.
I must obey them because they love me.

She tells me to obey them and not argue. They are my elders. Little girls should behave properly.
I learn from her daily, she is my mother.

Bunny Bear doesn’t tell me anything. He just sits, gives me a beautiful smile and listens to me.
I am glad, Bunny Bear doesn’t love me, so I love him.

iron bars
who placed them
at the window?

Shreya Narang



Where I live now, I dreamt of in my sleep in exact detail from the lights to the sound, the air I taste and the feel of my surroundings as it continues to unfold from more than a decade ago. This tells me that the past, present and future already was which is enough time for over two billion years of repetition in my logical thinking.

summer bloom
a fleeting moment churns
in the compost bin





In Tibetan Buddhism, sufferers of bad and good karma alike succumb to three cardinal sins, incur six spheres of existence, experience the chain of causation, and death holds together the Wheel of Life . . .

I The cock (passion)
August air
full of feathers . . .
pecking order

II The serpent (hatred)
dusky pines . . .
where campfire flickers
a rat snake’s forked tongue

III The pig (stupidity)
summer haze . . .
along with some comrades
a pot-bellied sow

Anna Cates