“Titled after Malick Sidibe’s work of the same name, which means “Look at me” in English, I
collect pictures that speak to the pattern of beauty of the Black and/or African woman.”
—Mayowa Oyewale

he insists, we lost the civil war 
because i kept aiming at a god, only i could see
hiding behind a cloud.

how do i tell him that he’s my grandfather 
& i wasn’t born until 28 years after the war?

but if I knew one person in the world who could die
for others, it was you,
if anything on this table is bitter, it must be my coffee
stripped of milk,

I don’t remember most of it
It’s been a decade since I descended from the hill with paper wings sewn into my back.

I have four siblings, but spent the first eight years of my life as an only child. In that time, I understood the importance of having someone on your side—a sibling, an uncle, an aunt, […]

i am disgusted by what death

looks like even before the body begins to rot—

that being able to touch life into

unbecoming is not the kind of god i want to be.

i began:
god, swear my body is not a keepsake for all your silences.
swear you can’t hear these things droning like terrified frogs in my head.
swear you do not know that i am unwelcome in this body.

Have you collected enough of your things?
This house tugs at you
a little girl looking for coins
searching for language to smooth things over.

A body is an excellence of bones 
A union  of skin
And breathing mishaps.

In the bank lobby, a little boy of seven walked up to me and slipped his hand into my palm. He was looking up at me and smiling. A woman stepped up, said, “Don’t mind […]