The engorgement of portraits: white man after white man after white man on white horses over a mountain of dead bodies in battle. That was the final straw for me.
One hybrid piece by Alissa Tu.
One comic by Mikoto.
This book made my life, my breaking, my joy something other than a spectacle for the white gaze.
I was a carpenter bee bounty hunter once.
During drought or worse conditions, they can curl up and sleep in suspended animation for decades like tiny interstellar astronauts.
those glass doors that were left unlocked/since people like this can afford to trust
Remember the fire too easily extinguished/along the tongue’s long hallway
How neither of us/were made to debut in the kitchen out of our own/physical hunger, except if you believe grief too has a growl,/has a belly.
In the future, we find our names on/hurricane watch lists.