Storms of words fold
neatly at the end
of my throat. None
dare to rise to my lips.
I fish them out every
evening, lay them down
next to the fireplace,
a stack of grey clouds.
Maybe, If they were dry
and crisp in the morning,
It would be easier
for the wind to hoist
them up to my mouth.
Maybe then I won’t
twirl foreign thoughts
in my hospitable mind.
Maybe then my voice
will snap like thunder
every time my eyes
decides to pour out
in my mother tongue.
Eithar M. is a Saudi poet based in Riyadh. She holds an MA in Creative Writing (Oxford Brookes University). Her poetry engages themes of trauma, gender, and cultural memory, through a feminist lens. Her work has appeared in Lucent Dreaming. She is the author of A Cup of Chaos (2018)
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