Today’s choice
Previous poems
Khairina Anindya, Genevieve Beech
Khair
At the feet
of al-Ka‘ba
you asked for a daughter.
You named me
Khair – Blessing.
I answered
inside you
forcing myself into your ribs
remaking you
in the emptiness of your lungs.
in the space he made—
his shoes
left in the doorway
your words—
not at the tip of your tongue
but caught at your teeth.
imprinting your face and his
I carry you
under my tongue.
Khairina Anindya is an engineer from Indonesia, currently based in the Netherlands. She writes poetry shaped by culture and memory. She enjoys reading across different literary traditions.
BIRTHLIGHT
You are ordinary
to the teenager on the bus,
the doctor at our six-week check.
Everywhere, mothers birth
their own gold-spun miracles
with features much like yours.
But I felt you move,
little wish, inside
my body, inside its mist.
I knew you first as fable,
a not-yet thing darting under skin,
a lantern held in the halfway.
Before I siphoned your light
outside me, and you flickered,
soared, and the world was changed.
Genevieve Beech is the creator of Motherlore Magazine on care, matrescence and ecology. Motherlore can be found in the Women’s Art Library, Goldsmiths, and featured in ‘M(other)ing’ 2025 at Virginia Tech Perspective Gallery. Genevieve enjoys the many veins of bookmaking.
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forming viridescent ripples
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if samsara’s concrete please don’t come back
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There is the green that birthed all pine trees.
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We were the housing and the housed,
meaning nothing except that
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or to put it simply never out.
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trapped beyond the door, to time skewed
by time away, the house bigger and
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I don’t know why I look to my mother
for her shadow never stays.