Noor-e-Sehar Ali

Seeded bread, Butter (2022)

THE RED BLOOD cells are

sparse

He buys

Spinach

Red meat

He does not know about the

pomegranates.

The days are long it’s a good thing

Life is shorter

Than the days

That add up to its

Some footsteps are slower

The hair is falling he says

It looks good

when it is long

Like Hers.

He has No Clue

About the Bad

Things that happen in the Long

Days ago I think he caught a

Glimpse of the blue letter

With the white font

The bad news

In wasted ink.

Life as fickle

as spinach leaves.

Fingers green

I wash and tear

Life sometimes

For a brief moment

As tender

As his Slow Cooked Lamb

Carved with blunt knives

Sinews strawn out by teeth.

No good knives allowed

In the house his children are

Clumsy they are bad

They are Haemoglobin Hungry.

‘I can’t believe what I have witnessed!’ He cries
‘What happened?’ I run

‘I have found the Sweetest Mango,

I must go and buy more immediately.’

He leaves like spinach.

We don’t speak a word about this or that or her

Text me, he says.

Seeded bread,

Butter. I reply.

About this work

Illustration by Safa Shahzad.
magnumphotos.com/theory-and-practice/the-shape-of-a-circle