I dreamt that the gods picked me out of bed

and shook me violently

they had grown tired of my struggle

and breathed bravery into my lungs

i was not born ready for this

but something has changed

it was desire that made me weak

so I will take those parts you claimed

and build a new fire

a new flame to consume the old

and burn the blame

– Sheila C.




small granules 

of grated ginger 

are embedded 

in my fingernails 

the knife is slick  

& the root crunches 

with my movement 

I am distracted 

your pacing 


your own anxiety 

but I’m trying 

to stay focused

on the tangible 

the taste of ginger 

and foolish blood 

a small pool 


on the tip 

of my finger 

the samba blaring 

two doors down 

reminding me 

I am missing the cool 

depth of the Caribbean 

I decide to sear garlic 

and lime 

it stings 

but I continue. 

– Sheila C