they took to the streets with their faces carved like clay pumpkins mad because the eclipse had come shadow season when all the light turned into puddles of melted ice a black man clad in rusted audacity stood in the sacred place on a soapbox made of multi-colored fear that looked like … Continue reading will the women bleed too?
gravity tethers us to the ground it is power in the body of quick, dead, and quick-dead a force of honor she has no headstone still a sibling error following two years of promise and no honor i am the last breath of patience digging my hands in the dirt to say hello to an … Continue reading Honor Thy Mother
I. In July sun and burgundy car, I breathe 1985 in 11 year lungs, riding in silence. In our grief we bump against each other. This is kindling. This is dry wood. There is fire to burn. She has misplaced a son she never knew. And despite having his location, can never seem to find … Continue reading (Re)Consideration