We name our bodies / anything that means to
gather / flock into belonging

into the tamarack wood / into the mouths / of the
January where I left

the fruit to rust / we stumble into our blood / wild
animals yoking together

an inheritance / this country of unrest / where loss is
shade beneath

every cracked tree / terror each time lightning /
embosses the fields rippling

smaller on my tongue / we name our bodies /
before they are unnamed

by the grassland smoke / & the feckless eyes / of
those who mark us

with an x / this winter country / its season of
amaranthine oranges

& tender mangoes / I eat the pith & boil the rinds / I
hope the ghosts

of mother tongues / transpire in the vapour / I am
drawn to every scattering

syllable / stammerings of Kutchi / & coifs of clove to
split the sweet

of this memory / this version / an imagined Dar es
Salaam in a story

passed down / we collect the fragments / gather
together blanks

& birch / judge our own belonging / this dream is a
of other

dreams / longing slips through like words / my
tongue is a sieve.

Part of SAWTI Zine Issue 1

Photography by Safari Ombeni

Alycia Pirmohamed is a doctoral candidate at the University of Edinburgh, where she is studying figurative homelands in poetry written by second-generation immigrant writers. Her chapbook Faces that Fled the Wind won the 2018 BOAAT Press Chapbook Prize, and she has a pamphlet forthcoming with ignitionpress. Alycia is the recipient of the 92Y Discovery Poetry Contest, and her writing can be found at alycia-pirmohamed.com. She received her M.F.A. from the University of Oregon.