past mahal / dressed in the garments / of two pronouns.
Cooking without meat has forced me to be creative in the kitchen and expanded the confines of my world.
For a long time, I believed you had to keep these records. I knew so little about who I was and what I wanted.
Just as I was reaching the peak of my abilities—and as the pandemic began—I left professional ballet behind, before ever giving my dreams a proper try.
The email some anonymous stranger had sent to my boss was an agonizing reminder of how I lived, the choices I made, and the priorities I held close.
Their judgment is clear every time, and my aunt is the only one who is bold enough to say it with her chest: I am a bad mom.
Niina Pollari reads the title poem from her new collection published by Soft Skull Press