Red Thread

Our bare arms tangle. I don't move away. Neither does she.




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Image shows a close up of a cluster of bright yellow flowers with red-brown centers in a overgrown grassy patch. The trunk of a tree can be seen in the background.

Unruly and Bittersweet, L.A.

I grow crooked /
where sidewalks flay open, creased by earthquake.


person holding pencil writing on notebook

What They Didn’t Say

I appreciate your interest in me—particularly my vast collection of Guess jeans


Image shows a close up of a traditional drum from the side. The drum is decorated with woven leather. The top of the drum has a dark circle in its center. The lighting is dark and blue hued, shining on the drum's surface. The background is black and makes the details of the drum stand out.

Ghazal

what won’t burn when you’ve sown madness?


Image shows a purple sky with pink illuminated clouds, over the dark silhouette of a mountain. In the foreground is a body of water reflecting the sky with ripples on its surface.

Dear Body—

The days poured out in a continuous stream, disappearing as though through a sieve.


On the left: photo of Saba Keramti, who is seated, smiling at the camera. On the right: cover of Self-Mythology, featuring an illustration of a nude woman, seated on the floor looking at a reflection of herself in the mirror.

Q&A with Saba Keramati, author of Self-Mythology

I try very hard to make the English language sound beautiful. But in doing so, I can’t ignore how language (and yes, even poetry) can also be made odious, or how eloquence can be used for malintent.