issue 11: aug 2016, Poetry
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basement witches by Javetta Laster

 

She is an island
lit in wildfiyah
we woke before the
cities could find us
she calmed the sun in
to the sky but not
before driftin the
moon into slums-ber
she painted colored
my arch with finger
prints chippin the bricks
’way from my backside
She is black lipped
caramel pupils
dielate as we in
hell. breaths. She keeps draggin.
on that cig and blow
in/out mischief bit
ten nails scratchin at
unruly black curls
thicker than her
Anguished English
speakin bout how
many believers
still be leavin her
smoke trails unbothered
empty extinguishers
become my arms
my feet fall asleep
although I know it’s time to run.


 

Javetta Laster creates a multidisciplinary/multimedia approach to storytelling and visits modern myth-making as a liberatory tool for folks with marginalized identities. She writes about the ways her life and her mother’s, grandmother’s, and great grandmother’s lives communicate their world views as Black Southern Women.  She lends those identities to folk fantasy, creating an interworld where childhood, myth and adulthood often blend into one another. As far as community involvement, her spacemaking/events move towards Queerness, Blackness, Womanhood and Collective Liberation. 

You can find her on tumblrtwitter, and instagram. Check out her project Afrikweer.

Illustration by Nadia El H.

 

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