Hard Fruit by Hamraaz


Art by Marina Marinksy


Hard Fruit

This morning, when I told you 

that I’d dreamt 

the theocracy had been declared—  

and the internet was down

and it was no longer safe 

to say ‘freedom’

in a song or slogan,

or even on the phone— 

you just nodded 

and said  you’d woken, 

sweating and shaking, 

after dreaming of breaking 

all your front teeth on a hard,

red apple from Kashmir.


Follow Hamraaz's poetry here.

 
 

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