In Karachi we wrapped nightfall around our fingers, long silken black noose knotting into flesh. Pressed bottles of bootleg liquor to our mouths, lined our nostrils with white smoke, wings of ash around our footprints. We were itching to be at the mouth of a beginning. Spoke in lies, small and big. “Yes, I’ll be home by six,” and “No, I’m just going to the movies.” Watched mosaics of anguish on our parents’ faces, tasted the salt of their sorrow. What could we do? That magnetic city had all of our bodies disassembling and reassembling. We returned to only half of ourselves. Parts of us buried in the sand while other parts fungated in the back of a car, palm on the steering wheel herding us into the wilderness. In the forest the lights dispersed in every direction, turning our eyeballs bluepinkredyellowgreen. Hands steadying each other, we took off our skins, revealing the creatures underneath. We measured the police sirens in little droppers and mixed them into our flasks of music, dancing with teeth bared, our nails razor-sharp. Our families would find us there hours later, washed up like ambergris, our sweat hardened into arils that captured seeds of light.
“Party Song” is a finalist in The SmokeLong Grand Micro Contest 2025.
In its third year, The March Micro Marathon will be, as usual, a prompt-a-day whirlwind for 24 days. You’ll exchange drafts of micro fiction, non-fiction, and prose poetry in small groups and gather for a series of online events (all recorded for participants unable to attend live). We’ll finish with 3 competitions, and participants who are not already in SmokeLong Fitness will be invited to workshop with SmokeLong Fitness until the end of April!