I remember her late night howls, calls and summons,
The way in which she’d carry her own self-destruction,
Return to sender, when she’s sent,
Unstrange-strangers, distasteful guests,
Drowsy savior, soul’s expense,
The knocks at her door, lock her in suspense,
Proverbs released, with loneliness immense
She remembers her the tower as her home,
I remember her past life as a bird,
The affect that music had with her,
Uncaged feet, but beat down chords,
Sung the song with Marilyn’s allure,
My soul to keep, pray to the lord,
Karmically, what can’t I afford?
P. Cherisse Mwanaliti is a writer whose work spans essays and narrative forms rooted in Womanist thought, Black feminist theory, and Black anarchist perspectives. She spent seven years in caregiving work after high school before later enrolling at Kennesaw State University to pursue writing professionally as an adult student. Her creative work often draws from lived experience and personal history.