Category: Poetry
-
Imagine my gender did not belong to the highest bidder.
-
she squints, pausing only to wipe the sheen from her black brow
-
she birthed me- her first son, laying in a cot under a leaking roof
-
my mouth is a boat flooded with green tea
-
My mother matches her beauty mark with her kumkuma
-
A tearful Darlene asks, “Why do they hate us?”
-
ghosts know it like they know my name
-
a selkie diving again and again into the Irish sea
-
do I take a rest as my mother once did she is an ocean, too.
-
unless you have a toddler in which case you do at least three times
