Tag Archives: Tryphena Yeboah

No one practices the silence like we do – My mother and I, We could be dying but humming a hymn together in the kitchen We could be dying but twisting our hair in the mirror We lost something when … Continue reading →

I can tell by the way a man looks at me that he’s thinking things Momma has me believing that a man only wants me for my body And I ask her what if a body is ugly? What if … Continue reading →

It’s thirteen minutes past four and I’m having a miscarriage I’m looking at the clock because bad things only happen after nine in the dark when no one else is around But here I am A hot afternoon A bloody … Continue reading →