In a room full of women
who look like home,
watching their smiles as welcoming as mats,
I am reminded
that my type of beauty looks nothing like theirs.
Nothing silk soft like how they hold the gazes of […]
I woke up this morning
and sat at my grandmama’s feet.
The purest form of energy making a halo above me.
is the type of beautiful
that makes me imagine the entire world is soaked in God.
You will not find what you are looking for here.
I lost limbs and substance fighting this war.
Love is that war.
I held a white flag.
The lover is always the loser.
like someone who has been cut open.
Dragging your guts a metre into a verse.
They say heartache.
We, poets, say alchemy.
We can make almost anything look beautiful,
the suicide bombers […]