Of Copper and Silver

My long, luscious hair with my thick eyebrows, along with my eyelashes, are all dark and rich. I pair bright, Red lipstick and gleaming Gold jewelleries, accentuating the opulence of my Brown skin. Read the rest

Precious arrival

He gazed at the sky, icy flakes floating down from the billows of dark greying mass. Soft fountains of mist formed with each breath. Read the rest

Winners

Someone shouts, that futile plea to be released from names and reputations. Someone shouts. I am vitally aware of how many times I have gone around the sun and how many of those times have been with you. Read the rest

Alessandra

taps my arm with her bow, asks ((which animal does this étude remind you of?))   Pause briefly.   (I want her to push my fingers into her palm again, like right before we played last June, at assembly, when I was cold, and when I wouldn’t take off my gloves. Read the rest

Om

with its curves and swirls, is not your yoga to enlightenment. a seed of creation, with the power and beauty of the universe within its loops and twirls, is not your tattoo to popularity. Read the rest

No Take-Backs

Emily is the kind of girl constantly caught between an existential crisis about true love and writing a haiku on sexual innuendos. Read the rest

Finding

I fell in love early when I was sixteen and unafraid with my best friend. I didn’t know then why I couldn’t stop thinking about her and why I burned when she smiled at me nor did I know why I wanted to sleep next to her and watch her wake in the morning or why adrenaline was a comfortable taste and my resting heart rate was higher I thought my friends would understand I didn’t know then that they’d stop smiling when I said her name and look at me like I was lying nor did I know that they would tell their friends and that I’d be stared at and branded a freak or that on a Tuesday morning there was a dead fsh in my locker and a slur written across the door I was stupid enough to think she’d love me back I didn’t know then that she’d grimace when I told her and say it wasn’t right for me to love her nor did I know that she would leave my calls unanswered and hate me for being me or that her parents would call mine and I’d have to listen to my mother’s laugh when I came out. Read the rest

‘Colourism’

_ And so I scratch at the skin I was given, Skin that is pale and they see as somehow purer, But it doesn’t change to the colour I desire. Read the rest