Nanya Jhingran

I Unthread and He Arranges Me

I Am Finished With History

So You Are Here, and There Still

An Empire Elsewhere

Each Time You Enter You’ll Carry a Mouthful of Names

I Had to Clear my Throat

One-Legged Bird

The Plain Became My Hunger’s Home

A Myth Against Empire

Where the Sunflowers Have Pointed

Embodied Placements
