She knelt to pray, still as stone lights went out in her heart. Salty tears, only life left. Still as stone, birds perched thought her...

The tired receding tide speaks of a maiden, not of flaxen hair but African ethnicity. They speak of a tender heart sitting on the beach...

In 1904 Bessie Anderson Stanely wrote the following definition of success in the Brown Magazine. "He has achieved success who has lived...

She sits by the edge of the bed and wishes it were the edge of the world so she could dive into an iridescent heaven. People have a way...

"This soul is a gift from great women that came before me," and I believed her. She had the nostalgic honesty of yesterday, spoke with a...

She said, "They look at my thighs as if they had faces of their own, as if they don't have daughters of their own. Their wives look at my...

Your darkness is lantern to my night: lead pendulums shy sway you are moon and broke hourglass (you sun where you are not welcome how...

She said, "I prefer nightmares to reality. When darkness is come and day is spent: phantoms glory in our dread, only in the back of our...

On calm, nights, where even praying mantis mouths are shy of words for God, on a frequency where they are missing too many prayers,...

Where do you go when you're by yourself? Who comes along when you call for help? I tie myself to a falling star at the temple of it's...

I wish my blue were that of a sunny blue sky, not these heavy hues that make a soul feel like Methuselah. I hope for God's voice on the...

These women are gods. These women are gods, Carrying seeds abandoned by men with hot blood and cheap hearts in stolen moments with...