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By Jeanann Verlee
In a humble, godless house
you moved through youth like any girl.
Dolls & other toys, yours,
By Sharon Olds
They put roofs over our heads.
Ours was made of bent tiles,
so the edge of the roof had a broken look,
By Sonia Sanchez
There are women sailing the sky
I walk between them
They who wear silk, muslin and burlap skins touching mine
They who dance between urine and violets
By Melissa Tuckey
Unable to sleep,
the blankets wrapped in waves, waves
as tall as dreams,
the dream world trying to make sense
By Ruth Irupé Sanabria
My grandfather asked me: could I remember
him, the park, the birds, the bread?
I’ll be dying soon, he said.
By Amanda Gorman
There’s a poem in this place—
in the footfalls in the halls
in the quiet beat of the seats.
It is here, at the curtain of day,
By Caits Meissner
of course there were gaps I kept my eyes
shuddered up my curiosities strapped
amnesia on as a mask but only the dead do not dream.
By Saida Agostini
jabari says fuck that, harriet wasn’t trying turn the underground into henrietta’s. but shit, I want a hero, a full on black queer woman
By JP Howard
black women we be trying to hold worlds
on our backs, in our hearts without fail
some days we fail at perfection
By Imani Davis
a political statement walks into an art classroom. it could be the walls, or her bones, either way
some white structure will soon betray her with its crumbling.