Poetry by Javeria Hasnain

                   Jeff Ruane CC


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An Exercise in Destruction

I dismembered                        my doll 
so I have              something                 to put together. 
I dismembered                        several, a head 
of a hand         of a torso                                  of a leg. 

I reached for an arm & mother 
saw the saliva dribbling from my mouth, 
& screamed-- a momentary lapse--
& I was back at my pace! Like God,

I too have mastered indifference. 
Like god still, I haven’t mastered creation.

Only you remain no stranger, a shadow
petite enough to hold my tongue &
replace with an ear. I dance to the music 
because,
suddenly,
 it is all I can hear. 

My words conjure no silence, my love
is only a discomforting noise. I breathe
only when I can’t. 

In a dream, I ask you to transform
me into your favorite kind of tree.

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Oranges

There is an incredible pain in my 
neck & I never sleep. Once, I looked

back too much too fast. Every part pushed
the tightest becomes numb, becomes 

my heart. Oranges are functional in their
entirety, each fiber serves as a reminder

to your memory & I never eat. My pain
extends from its source, becomes functional; 

stories to tell you. You instruct me not
to define love as something that has happened

to me. I chant apologies towards a hollow
stone until I knock myself out on your door. 

If I knew the parting moment, I would touch
your face & kiss it- that was all. Now,

I sob prayers under the wet blanket until it calms
me. To be dead is to not be

waiting.

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Javeria Hasnain is a senior undergrad student from Karachi, Pakistan. She acts in short films and theatre, and writes poetry. She hopes to pursue an MFA in Poetry.