We are asked to leave things to chance, but if the future

is really a slaughterhouse, then why not stake our territory?

Imagine saying to the tree: I’m cold and alone

and I need this small fire to burn.

Imagine the tree replying:

Come seedling, let’s dance.

— Tishani Doshi from poem Tigress Hugs Manchurian Fir

• My Real Purpose Might Be To Learn To Have No Purposes
• I Can’t Just Speak About Suffering
• I Remember My Watery Nature
• Don’t Remember Lighting This Cigarette
• You Fit Into Me

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