words from the soul
Her hand is in mine; clammy because it is hot on these streets that smell of burgers, oil, and urine. She tries to lace her fingers with mine. I pull away slightly, aware of the implications. “My mother didn’t like holding my hand,” she tells the therapist casually. “Sweaty palms triggered her.” She is old … Continue reading Time, Untethered
Some days, like today, I wish I could just step out of it all just for a moment, long enough to catch the breath I lost somewhere between becoming Woman and becoming Mother. Some days, to be Mother is to press flat against the packed mud I left indented in my rock bottom. Some days, … Continue reading If a Mother Falls to Her Knees, Does She Even Make a Sound?
The sun and moon fight above me. One circles me while I circle the other. And they disagree about time and space and light and make me wonder which of them is right. I was born after the stars had come out and the fires burned. The moon, just beginning to cycle back down in … Continue reading Sun Year, Moon Year, and Me
She calls me, breathless. "It was amazing," she panted. "I loved it. I was made for this, Ima. I need it." Patched up by the threads trailing behind her gathering into a seam sewn with every fall and knotted with each triumphant rise, my lungs fill. My hands slow their spasms. My head sweeps the … Continue reading The Place Where I Belong
They've come to kill us, these poisoned hearts. They've come to take our innocent and young. They've come to cut down our wise and wizened. They've come to slash our soft and pure. They seep into our waters across oceans and fields of tranquility. They march in step to a raging scream a hatred pulsing … Continue reading They Cannot Gun Us All
Colloquially Speaking 