Poetry by Ra Ebrahim

      Jonathan Gross CC




Minor Penances

Brushing my teeth so hard my gums bleed. Giving blood because I’m a universal donor and don’t want to be selfish, even though I barely have enough for me. Two teaspoons of cereal in the mornings. Bruising my knees on the wooden floor when I try to do yoga. Pulling the piece of jade against my skull so hard I can feel the mandible, which I always thought was a beautiful word. Holding it in my mouth the same way I did ‘masticate’ or ‘smear’ or ‘calcified’, just bitter enough to let go of. Chewing and spitting. Lying down to hear the acidic gurgle of red wine sloshing around my stomach. Saving the candle for a special occasion. No sugar. Looking everyone in the eye. Asking ‘How can I help?’ all the time. Doing everything just enough to muddy the waters. Stirring cinnamon clockwise into my coffee to pass by unnoticed. Remembering when I heard the story of how Job was God’s favourite human, and look what happened to him. Saving all the ants that inadvertently crawl into my sink because I know what it’s like to be a small creature crushed under the hand of something larger. Refusing imagination. Throwing out the baby with the bathwater. Suffering with precision. 



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Ra Ebrahim is a freelance writer and poetry editor of the online literary magazine, The Candid Review. Their recent work can be found in Major 7th Magazine and Resurrection Mag, with forthcoming work in BusTalk Lit. Still somehow on Twitter @projectiondept. They are based in Singapore.​