Bullet ants are found near graves I trail them on a shiny floor
A coil of hair shuns movement, they take me outside
Bending over the railings I hold a cigarette in the V of my palm
Diagonally above I see a woman leaning onto hers,
I wave at her
Several seconds later with a subtle nod she acknowledges
Middle aged women are hard to please. We stare at the empty sky
At the 14th century quilla bats reign at night pigeons flitter
In daylight stands within odds in front of dozen stacked balconies
Sleeves flowing half ways, pantaloons dancing
Everything still. Nicotine burns my throat
In America I don’t burn tobacco but here
Smoke emits a sweet memory—girlhood & rebellion
Somebody shuts a door somewhere
Like dogs men piss on concrete in this city
Inside my parents are sleeping. I saw them today
After a year and a half
I inherit his temper
SLAM
I exit the hot air
The woman stays holding onto her night
Noor Alnaaz Islam is a poet, editor, and philosophy scholar from Assam, currently based in Seattle, Washington. Her work explores eco-poetics, the human condition, and matrilineal identity. She was an editor at Clamor and served as a reader for the 2025 Airlie Prize. Noor’s writing has appeared in Ambrosia, Ancient Technology News, Clamor, The Assam Tribune and elsewhere. She currently works with Kelsey Street Press and hosts Sip and Share, a community circle.