“My Possessions”- Nayana Nair

All objects that I possesshave stopped doing what they were meant to do.The window doesn’t bring me new air.The bed doesn’t give me rest.The glass filled with water and handful of pillspromise me disconnection from reality, sleep, or even deathbut never the rest that I so want.The words on my books run around on pages,Continue reading ““My Possessions”- Nayana Nair”