A grandmother's annual ritual.
Deeper shades remain subjected to a racialised market.
I am no longer asking for a seat at the table.
Every night, like clockwork...
If they think of us as eyelashes, we shall be the eyelash people.
Lush, incandescent islands of possibility in a sea of quiet despair.
Suffering is indiscriminate, the university ought to be too.
Where Western countries tend to value individualism above all, collectivist cultures prioritise the well-being of the group.
It is knowing and feeling the presence of my ancestors within this land, but also seeing the effects of the past play out onto the modern-day land.
The poem of time