Shadi Eskandani

I am not the most social person. If you’ve ever been in my close circle, you may have taken my lack of consistent connection with you personally. And I can’t blame anyone for that. I also can’t blame myself. Most social interactions drain me. Some may call me a loner, but that wouldn’t be accurate.…

Forthcoming Debut Chapbook, Contusions (June 2021) I have been bursting to make this announcement. My chapbook, Contusions, is out to the world in June! A huge thank you to Locked Horn Press for giving my poems a printed home. And for making this all happen. Currently, Contusions is in pre-order status on the Locked Horn…

i curve my spinegive thanks to the sky – surrender beyond blankets of grey above (within)starburst galaxiesswirl rainbowed brilliancecascading hopeand ia quantum selfsanctifiedlonging to drench fuchsiain the here and now.

safety for a cost yetnot promisedif your currency nottheir currencyif you catch my drift during this carnage. a manufactured riftpartitions of privilegethe ins and outs of humanityadorned on platters of negligencesecretly mockingeach last breath taken.

rosemary oiled fingersglide over parted haireach morning since timestretched like gumbetween my teethclenched in this pandemonium. ⠀ each day, the promiseof oil smoothing my hair –every drop soothing a thirstunprecedented,piercing. ⠀ every sunrise since,i drench my hair in oillike prayers twistinginto braidsholding me together,holding me together.

i scrub my hands crimson, this compulsion to cleanse from invaders and sin soaking in my skin – a violence not (always) my own. years ago, taken to land taken – (un)settled at the edges of humanity, where microbes and tyrants breed extinction, breathe death. they say, cover your mouth for protection! yet this silence…

every day since, stunted (skype) conversations disrupted (internet) connections a cadence of condolences mass devastation across miles of broken earth the gutting sounds of a mother’s grief a ravaging a vicious distance offering no relief. my home is on fire. every day since, there’s been a typhoon inside me no sleep here only a flooding…

kneeling on the rug next to your crib i curl your fingers into mine like maman did when i too was scared of monsters. i whisper safekeeping from shapeshifting demons like those from childhood who devoured flesh crushed bones left nothing but shards shreds shrapnel. do they wake you up at night too my love?…

sacrificial saffron prayers persimmon stories safekeep seed and semantics rituals tight between shoulders as tilted torso carries weight of those before. displaced loss. infinite love. under a paisley sky i radiate ancestors emanate brilliance raising you to heal us all. my sweet child – inside my bones a solstice surrenders the sun to you.

gratitude inside this abyss you clawed your body crimson raising a healer