Anita's Digest


Our columnist Anita reflects on our February blog theme of self love in this beautiful poem.

Photo by Austin Ban on Unsplash

I heard a rumour that April was the cruelest month
Perhaps we mistake its love for dust
And its hugs for must
That envelops my skin
Cluttering what I think
As spring makes an early promise
I step out each day
As care
Towards my present
Particles of dust
Participants along my walk
Help me with a study of the past

My eyes itch
But early bloom lets me see a future
Filled with see you soons

Anita is a writer of all sorts. She has a background in Sociology and Gender Studies. Her main creative pursuits include poetry, short fiction, and articles on social and cultural topics. She often likes to play with the boundaries of fiction and non-fiction, exploring the liminal spaces between these styles. She’ll be updating this column weekly, with fresh, topical discussions about what’s on her mind. Stay tuned!

By assemblagecollective

An interdisciplinary youth collective made up of young creatives aged 18-26

2 replies on “Dust”

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