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Literature, PoetryMay 13, 2014

flood and shatter

She Wore a Veil of Sorrow by Ahsan Masood

She Wore a Veil of Sorrow by Ahsan Masood

When the hurricane hit, the water rushed backwards.
Black water bubbling up and out from the drain
with a pungent stink coursing over the brim of the sink
and the rim of the tub. You call what happened a flood.
I call it blood-letting.

After months of icy moods, we stood at the edge
goading each other to take the plunge.

You dared me with sarcasm— chalky as bone dust.
I retaliated with Pollyannaism— biting as black rust.
You said I’ve kept secrets. I said you’ve lived to lie.
And sometimes lied to live—

lied through your teeth so you wouldn’t get caught
red handed and grey bellied because you knew
you were the one who had shattered the Daedalid vase
filled with our vows—

a vase with such a seductive body that up until now
it had kept us from ever letting go.

You still like to play hangman because the taste
of half-baked words turns you on and I almost always lose
which means my stick-man hangs like a sad ornament
with a noose round its neck from a tree. And there were
gaping black holes where letters should be.

I’ll make a deal with you— if you win, I’ll swim upstream
through dank water rushing over the lips of the sink-
drowning fragments of our history. Filling in those
lingering black holes with letters strung like holiday lights.
I’ll swim and I’ll swim.

If I win— you’ll cut me loose from the tree.

~ Loretta Oleck

Loretta Oleck is a poet published in Wordriot, Feminist Studies, High Coupe, Right Hand Pointing, Commonline Journal, and The Cultural Weekly, among others. She has performed at The Hudson Valley Center for Contemporary Art, and has a chapbook to be published by A Hurricane Press. She holds an M.A. in Creative Writing.

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ahsan masoodLoretta OleckPoem of the Weekpoetry

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One last love letter...

April 24, 2021

It has taken us some time and patience to come to this decision. TMS would not have seen the success that it did without our readers and the tireless team that ran the magazine for the better part of eight years.

But… all good things must come to an end, especially when we look at the ever-expanding art and literary landscape in Pakistan, the country of the magazine’s birth.

We are amazed and proud of what the next generation of creators are working with, the themes they are featuring, and their inclusivity in the diversity of voices they are publishing. When TMS began, this was the world we envisioned…

Though the magazine has closed and our submissions shuttered, this website will remain open for the foreseeable future as an archive of the great work we published and the astounding collection of diverse voices we were privileged to feature.

If, however, someone is interested in picking up the baton, please email Maryam Piracha, the editor, at maryamp@themissingslate.com.

Farewell, fam! It’s been quite a ride.

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