Bibi. Bibi yangu. My Grandmother. Her Tree. Bibi’s tree is yet to be a tree . . . but it is a tree to me. A plant that is supposed to reach her God. A plant that we water, so it grows. A plant that we pray over hoping it protects her. Even if it […]
Category: Poetry and Fiction
Posted inMichigan in Color
Thunder thighs
Posted inMichigan in Color
Relative to Dada
Posted inMichigan in Color
Why I Slept at 3
Posted inMichigan in Color
middle moments
Posted inMichigan in Color
it’s fall 2019, and
Posted inMichigan in Color