Hannan Khan
troll grows you
in the cavernous where nettles drone
a keeper of moss churns the soil with hands of stone
rhizomes bend, not break, beneath his touch
he plants soundlessness; he waters shadow
he culls weeds of reminiscence that purr in tongues
once, voyagers swore he was only a curse
hunched beneath bridges, trafficking conundrums for passage
now he chaperones seedlings like wayward striplings
with ojos that carry mountain glow
a blossom sprouts —half fire, half frost—
its corolla murmurs the name of the lost
whelps steal seeds, pockets stuffed with dusk
and wake to unearth their dreams, burgeoning vines—
oxblood, emerald, sable— snaking through hallways
twisting through alveoli
the cobble-handed one smiles:
a smile is a split reflection of blessing & curse
the plants that fructify will nourish or devour; feed or unmake
pebbled fingers sow mercy; mercy sows pebbled fingers
under luna’s cracked lantern
the flowers breathe stories no one owns
a riddle of ravenousness that cannot be deciphered
a puzzle of plenty that cannot be stashed
stroll inside this garden: every leaf will reminisce your visage
every thorn will question your sobriquet, and desert you
while you carry a radicle in your crimson
that hounds you in secret, but stay,
and efflorescence blooms from your chest
and a troll grows you as its own
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Hannan Khan is a nefelibata, poet, fiction writer, editor, and scholar of literature & linguistics from Pakistan. He combs through moments of love, death, delirium & relational complexities, seraphically tracing what’s breathed and what flickers unbreathed. He is the winner of the Native Voices Award 2025 for his poetry collection Isn’t Cooked Is Cursed. He sips coffee & reads Manto. His work has appeared in IHRAM Literary Magazine, Graveside Press, SpecPoVerse, Eye To The Telescope, Abyss & Apex, The Headlight Review, The Literary Hatchet, Winds Of Asia, Zoetic Press, Uncanny Magazine and is forthcoming in Native Voices Anthology. For a glimpse into his life, find him on Instagram: @hannan.khan.official
Author’s Notes/Backstory: “troll grows you” — a poem that grew from my curiosity about Norse Mythology, especially the way trolls exist as thresholds rather than villains — custodians of crossings, hoarders of riddles, figures both feared & necessary. I pined to reimagine the troll not as a brute but as a cultivator: one who grows people the way forests grow titans. The poem’s language leans into organic processes like rhizomes, radicles, efflorescence to mirror how identity sculpts underground before breaking the surface. I plaited blessing & curse together, letting the poem behave like its garden: lush, invasive & intimate. Troll doesn’t judge; it tends. What blossoms depend on what the traveler carries in their chest.
Editor’s Comments: I am reminded of a short story (with magical realism) written by the 2024 Nobel Laureate in Literature, Han Kang from Korea [“The Fruit of My Woman” (Granta), https://granta.com/the-fruit-of-my-woman/].
Image credit: Abstract green image (by benzoix on Freepik)