Graveyard by Z’monii G. Davis

I’m built upon the bones of (Their bones were never meant to slave away; hours on end, feet swelling on-call, arthritis in their knuckles that act up on rainy days.) my great-grandfather’s red skin, my grandmother’s brown, my aunts’, cousin’s, sisters’ and mother’s. I’m built from the scrapes. I wasn’t meant to live — to […]

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Clean Kitchen by Z’monii G. Davis

Piece by piece. Shatter, creak, crisp air, winter breeze, bloody cheeks, battered hands. Wind swept hair, porcelain filled with sky droplet, breathe in clean. Sweep swish, sweep right, left, day old apple peels, fallen leaves crumpled. All in one. Separate. Colors bleed together, remnants of past days. Fuzzy now. Days kidnap days. Minutes kidnap minutes, […]

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