“ra,”
By Elianne
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light leaks in from behind
the trees outside looking for things to lean on, shifts its weight to shadow shape as if to say, “there is nothing, not even darkness, without me,” lineage
By Elianne
craving being
on your bed beats against my cheek- here, i have four feet- drums to a gut- i (could) name (more) things into being (it’s not the same) and poem. you poemmed a tree once- it sounded like God until you fed it to me- i still don’t think i was wrong. words like us pour into each other’s- tree God treow ghuthan drewo ghut dreu gheu perdurable perfusion pere per to produce utterly to procure thoroughly to grant entirely to bring forth by means of a steady pouring out perpetual and in libation- roots. Elianne is a Canadian-Lebanese writer, traveler, lecturer, and PhD candidate of English Literature at the University of Waterloo. She has self-published a collection of poetry, has written and directed two original plays, performed at Metro Al Madina; she is a columnist for the Arabic magazine Rehla and the newspaper Al Akhbar, has published short fiction in Litro UK, and has written on Beirut for the V&A museum. Her online work can be found her https://iamyouni.wordpress.com/
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