basil plant(s) yasmeen nematt alla
like my madness and I are shy lovers,
like we’re so afraid of what people would say if they saw us together, like what if they notice that we count for comfort? feel for nothing and for everything?
like sometimes I cry so much I could spit out every kindness ever given to me like a bad stomach bug,
like I want to hold you so badly but if you touch me, my skin will grow feet and run away from the both of us, and maybe my heart is always planning to do the same,
like sometimes I need to know that things will exist in pairs, like if I can’t tell that the last basil plant in the grocery store will be taken home with someone at the end of the day I too can't fathom that anyone will want me home at the end of the day,
like sometimes when I think about the revolution I’m thinking about the person who made sure to stay with me during our hike even though I’m a slow walker, like my sisters belly laughing so hard we didn’t know whose turn it was,
like sometimes being mad and the revolution taste exactly the same, like coconut curry and sticky rice,
like yesterday I heard someone ask “if I am a machine then what is my function”, and like I wanted to take over a conversation that wasn’t mine and say, “Nothing.”
like there is no need for function, like isn’t it enough to grieve so much of the universe so fucking often?
like sometimes there is bread in the oven, strawberries sweetening on the stove, a meal later, maybe a swim, maybe there is a get together by the fire [I am praying for ghost stories],
like I hope that the world cracks open into existence and we discover that its spine has curved in,
like there is only one another left of each other most days, there is only my mother who longs for her children, only my friends who long to be held, only me who longs, and longs, and longs, not sure for what,
like maybe the earth will need to rest for a few days before it returns to us,
and like maybe,
like maybe I’ll be mad enough to take it home, claim its pair beside my windowsill,
like beside this basil plant that needed a home to return to too.
This zine was written by Yasmeen Nematt Alla and illustrated using abstracted graphics created in collaboration with a text to image AI. Special thanks to TOPZINE for the support on this project.