Azra Tabassum's Blog, page 70
December 14, 2015
contramonte:
almost terrifying the things i will do to be touched. go back to the wrong person just...
almost terrifying the things i will do to be touched. go back to the wrong person just to be close to another sleeping body. kiss all my friends. walk three hours through gale force winds just for the chance to have fingers knotted in my hair. and then not even sexually: asking people to hug me. resting a single finger against someone’s knee. running towards someone with open arms and hoping they are able to catch me.
what city are you from?
I’m originally from Sylhet and then Southampton and now Edinburgh!
December 13, 2015
Just curious:) is your bird in the ribcage poem inspired by charles bukowski's bluebird?
I’ve not read that so, no :)
December 12, 2015
amanda-oaks:
wordsdancemag:
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HUZZAH! My book & soooo many others! Plus necklaces & pins, ohmy!
I just wanted to let you know that I bought your book and your Samson and Delilah poems are just... They give me life. Rubens's painting of them has been my favourite for many years now and you've brought it to life for me. Thank you thank you thank you
Ah yay thank you so much! That pairing is still one of my favourite pieces of work and I did use Ruben’s painting in my citation when I talked about what inspired them ♥️
Can you please please make your book available on kindle as well?
I’m pretty sure if you download it as an ebook you could just email it to your kindle :)
December 11, 2015
"His unknowing
is where I want
to crawl
right into
the heart of him
and stay there,..."
is where I want
to crawl
right into
the heart of him
and stay there,
fingers-locked,
mouths breathing
the same
soft air, pink skin
and tired eyes
and beyond love,
above love,
again and again
and again.”
- Azra.T., “Tuesday” (via 5000letters)
babe don't worry about the people saying that line doesn't make sense. it's your poetry ?? and tons of people love it; it doesn't have to make sense if it's beautiful
Thank you sweetpea but I didn’t actually write that line! It’s a poem by Kallie Falandays which is why it’s even more confusing when I get stick for it!
"One of the quieter loves
our bodies make is a negotiation of hurt.
All the ghosts we carry into..."
our bodies make is a negotiation of hurt.
All the ghosts we carry into this room,
how do traumas make love?”
- Khary Jackson, from “How to Make Love” (via deeplystained)
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