Cherry blossoms

In cherry blossoms, where the grass is not greener but take-out has tiny faces that grow under our toes. I saw you there, you were fighting a losing battle/ already lost/ fighting the Bombyx for it’s wings/ for the wool that clustered in charcoal/ on your back/ you fought Bombyx/ you fought it’s bear hugs/ they were meant to wrap star-like/ rum/ star-like fingers/ around every hair strand/ on your back & above it/ but larva existing in chambers of hair/ of human/ is more of a sure bet/ licking moonshine off leaves/ blushing & I could tell you didn’t want needles in the shape of June petals/ you didn’t want to walk & your boots let out moths in sweat beads/ & you did see/ & you did see me too/ you whispered about the death of many cherry blossoms/ buried with dirt in mouths/ you did see me with a smile/ like an inevitable peace sign.




Nooks is a girl/person poet from Canada. She’s half Persian/half Palestinian. Her words have appeared in Alien Mouth, Wu-Wei Fashion Mag and Uut Poetry. She loves a lot and too much.

Cover Photo: Angela Marie Henriette (