Triptych
Transnational Feminism Chandani Patel Transnational Feminism Chandani Patel

Triptych

The heat erupts on my skin

into buried bodies,

rubble engulfing their delicate bones

caring not if they are young or old

panicked echoes of their last breath,

chanting freedom songs,

trapped, their ashes now rise

haunting us all

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There is liberation in the groundswell
Transnational Feminism Lucienne Transnational Feminism Lucienne

There is liberation in the groundswell

Not only are we the waves, but

we are the storm itself.

It is we who have storm winds spinning in our lungs

It is we who have salt stinging our eyes

It is we who have choppy seas nauseating our bellies.

It is we who are coming for those who think

their peace matters more

their peace requires violence

their violence is justified

their violence is the only one justified.

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Body
This Is Not Love Tricia Sharpe This Is Not Love Tricia Sharpe

Body

I wonder if you would still love her

If she had no body

No female physical attributes for you men to gaze at

No Instagram picture to hit the love button

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I, My Grandmother
More Stories Nadine Tomlinson More Stories Nadine Tomlinson

I, My Grandmother

My grandmother seasoned Saturday soups with songs,

but never the ones from the land she left behind.

She anointed my scalp with oil,

plaited my hair with prayers,

spooned love with the chocho into my mouth.

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NESTED
More Stories Javanna Cumberbatch More Stories Javanna Cumberbatch

NESTED

My gratitude for your kindness was never expressed

For I was too young to be grateful

Too young to care, understand, or appreciate

You blessed three little girls of color

And valued their mother, a loyal worker for years

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