All the Things I Don’t Know by Safrina Ahmed

How do I eat the orange peel on the table? A river of legs, perhaps, 
the dangling silver from your smile. Always. 
How do I eat the roots spreading in the bathroom floor? The casual slip of money, sometimes,  a love letter. Always.  

We ask how and why and that is what I do. I eat the apples blooming in your cheeks, cremate my heart for 5 days, it is how.   

How do I drink your eyes? 
You handle this as a bird and tell me, 
"It's not who, it’s how," and now and now and now, the slip of orange peel, 
the silver, not how I feel, 
my heart—the ash you slipped into, pulled over your head as covers, kissed me until I fell asleep.


		Safrina Ahmed
		All the Things I Don’t Know
		How do I eat the orange peel on the table? A river of legs, perhaps,  the dangling silver from your smile. Always.  How do I eat the roots spreading in the bathroom floor? The casual slip of money, sometimes,  a love letter. Always.   We ask how and why and that is what I do. I eat the apples blooming in your cheeks, cremate my heart for 5 days, it is how.    How do I drink your eyes?  You handle this as a bird and tell me,  "It's not who, it’s how," and now and now and now, the slip of orange peel,  the silver, not how I feel,  my heart—the ash you slipped into, pulled over your head as covers, kissed me until I fell asleep.
		Safrina Ahmed says, “I have been writing for the past 3 years. Writing for me is a cathartic muscle that breathes air. I'm inspired by nature, animals specifically, and my cat Leo, even more specifically. I reside in Birmingham, UK—a city with an interesting scene: arts/music, etc. I like watching people the way you would as if they were lions in a documentary—only we eat with cutlery. Even the amusing twats can be their own sort of peculiar muse. I would also like to say without JES, nothing would be right. Also, I am 15 years old with an Indian nose.”
		© Safrina Ahmed All Rights Reserved