January 2018

Borderlands

I live in borderlands where cobwebs spin my fingers together and sun burns the mark of earth on my tongue. My home is two places and none. Born here and there, speaking the languages of both, my greatest fluency is silence.

Lost in Red

01. Sat in the spiritual place on a Friday After checking your availability You are busy at home I entered the place. You too joined me in the line of Prayers shoulder by shoulder with others I smiled at me Not sure

Deconstruct

Hair traitorous grey shameful need to pretend anti aging. Plucking, dilapidating; dyeing, dying. Betrayal of knees, hands, feet, neck (knees!) circled & magnified, almost expired  — quick sale! The male body needing no such revision. His landscape a shameless prairie

#Melanin

This word that keeps poppin’ on my Instagram feed Means so little, so it seems To crafty marketers and vacuous beauties Hash-tagging like tomorrow Will never come Kindled to autoignition point, Melanin shot golden stars out of their hiding places

We Write Your Rights

The Challenge Of Creating Educational Material For Women Refugees As academics dealing with real-life educational issues with important socio-political dimensions, we often need to struggle in order to find a balance between our allegiance to our research goals, our ideological
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Soul

You see, You are much too old. Your river seeks canyons to carve. Your melodies are not music. Not yet. Your language is yet to be born. You are of the Sea, the Earth, the Breeze. You are Freedom. You are