Offspring

Yellow Sunshine by Lord Kpuri

A dark-lighted glaze colored the sky,

Smelling of cinnamon and unnecessary things.

Except it smells like everything you need:

The firelight of the holy waters.

The womb is empty now.

The thighs, ugly now.

But the brown-feathered birds are through the world.

Five girls; always together, forming a flock of stars.

The sun will follow them all the time, like a cushioning light

Because only God knew how many times her children will fall,

When they learn to fly.

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Marie-Ange Nouroumby
Thoughts and Prayers

“I am the story”. Senior Millennial. French Black Woman. African Immigrant First-Born Daughter.