“Portals” – Nayana Nair

the wafer breaks and crumblesmy teeth find a red muscle to killagain my mouth bleedsbut no iron strikes my tasteso i wait for iti wait for my imagined painto become real i look at my handsmy unsightly weak handsthey are portals to my past selfhow they weighed its emptiness even when they held youhow iContinue reading ““Portals” – Nayana Nair”