A hushed night. Soft and still.
I see threads. Threads. There are threads. Laced like webs.
Twined around my fingers, my toes, the vessels within my heart.
Stretching out piercing through particles and atoms.
Crisscrossing through time. Interlocking and tangling.
Knotting with other threads. Weaving and weaving.

Beautiful Wound

I will accept
the burn of hope
searing my heart.
Be left with a
beautiful wound
which came from myself.
Let the scorch glow
like the beams
of light
from the sun
that sets
but continues to shine
through a sky filled
with countless stars

Nazia Islam is currently a student at Syracuse University studying International Relations and Anthropology. She is interested in intercultural communications, religion, and the study of human behavior/cognition hoping to further her education in the mentioned fields. She supports the arts as a way of creating change and awareness of social issues.