The language of love that you taught me

My mother told me to ‘Find someone who we love as hard as you’ I listened and this is where it has taken me An unwanted refugee of your heart A cycle of piercing memories Like my existence is for you to wear And my soul you stole so silently.   I cannot speak what…

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My Religion

Featured Image: Drew Beamer Pray. Grasp these beads, they are your home For the temple lies within Pray. Sit beneath His feet Your body belongs to Him Terminate her image Her life in your mind Pray. Let the flame protect you Its gift in strength Ancestral intentions Words birthed upon infancy Burdens paralleled in honors…

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Diaspora

Featured Illustration: Upasana Agarwal Toeing the threshold between purgatory and reality. My spirit runs insurgent in the forest of looming souls. Torn from these nascent roots, Mary’s suckling lamb is distraught. Convention dictates the adoption of identity markers. Only this label is hopeless to the deciphering lens. Like sloping hieroglyphics, it confounds the viewer and…

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Reflections On My Way Home

Featured Image: Signs of Change: Social Movement Cultures, 1960s to Now I ride the metro and it rides me. I clutch the sign and it clutches me. I wonder if it feels the words that emotions cannot describe? I feel them too. Perhaps that is why we clutch each other.   I cannot decide which…

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reclamation

1 at the gynecologist’s office she says  there is a poison circulating through my blood   says its chasing the embryonic versions of my existence like a minotaur in a labyrinth   i walk home below dirty rainbows whirling in the dead-end of my womanhood   sleep for endless hours dream in blue-shaded parables  …

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Heart Awareness

Featured Illustration: Shelia Liu Your heart  Centering your chest Could center more   The window to your soul The words that you let go   Perhaps the way you view the world Could all be the reflection Of the heart Ever so raw And without   Your mind’s protection   You could go far You could…

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Meditations: A Series of Self-Portraits

What I wear can’t be replaced.  Inside or out, it always stays the same. Day after day, I look at myself and reflect on my outfit of (no) choice. Black skin and nappy curls is what it is. My outfit has its pros and cons. Nonetheless, I take care and maintain it  with the utmost…

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