Punarjanam
My daughter finds the perfect spiral
of a snail shell and bids me
put it in my pocket
for safekeeping, but, squatting
to look at some other wonder
of the natural world, this Fibonacci
in my pocket is destroyed,
some symbol of cycles
being remade and broken,
on the phone my mother
tells me she is Cleopatra
reincarnated, which is why
we went to Egypt
when I was a teenager, a place
where she immediately felt
a sense of belonging (though
the dust was terrible and the food
too samey), and where I first
understood that the way
you looked back at the men
who looked at you could be
dangerous, which my mother
understands as karma, something
I earned in a past life - not Cleopatra,
that was already taken, so I consider
if it was, for example, a snail,
one whose spent shell is carelessly
crushed in another lifetime
of a snail shell and bids me
put it in my pocket
for safekeeping, but, squatting
to look at some other wonder
of the natural world, this Fibonacci
in my pocket is destroyed,
some symbol of cycles
being remade and broken,
on the phone my mother
tells me she is Cleopatra
reincarnated, which is why
we went to Egypt
when I was a teenager, a place
where she immediately felt
a sense of belonging (though
the dust was terrible and the food
too samey), and where I first
understood that the way
you looked back at the men
who looked at you could be
dangerous, which my mother
understands as karma, something
I earned in a past life - not Cleopatra,
that was already taken, so I consider
if it was, for example, a snail,
one whose spent shell is carelessly
crushed in another lifetime
Spring 2026
Sumitra Singam is a queer, neurodiverse Malaysian-Indian-Australian coconut who writes in Naarm/Melbourne. Her work has been published widely, nominated for a number of Best Of anthologies, and was selected for BSF 2025. She works as a psychiatrist and trauma therapist and runs workshops on how to write trauma safely, and the Yeah Nah reading series. She’ll be the one in the kitchen making chai (where’s your cardamom?). You can find her and her other publication credits on Bluesky: @pleomorphic2.
Art: Pamela Hobart Carter
While We Listen, 2025
An any-side-up, ink, pastel, and acrylic on (cheap) paper
While We Listen, 2025
An any-side-up, ink, pastel, and acrylic on (cheap) paper