in my america religion wouldn’t be used as a weapon, it would simply be one’s personal beliefs; and people would be loved and accepted as they were— no one would

I sipped lightning like sweet tea, let it rinse the sand from between my teeth, spit glass shards of unease into my palm. Independence Day lit up social feeds with

Nothing shakes off the oppressive summer heat A sign of our times A lone dragonfly dips then Zips away in An erratic unfanciful flight of urgency To sideswipe the strung

Land of opportunity is actually land of chance to be born in the wrong decade one where you’re gassed up in gasoline baths or encaged by Juan Crow or operated

my own country doesn’t know i’ve opened my jars to men my founding father’s age– if she did, then she would know that she were partly to blame for her