I Am My Safe Space Literatea 07: Leye Adenle
“I am my own safe space.” – Literatea, 07 by Leye Adenle.
The Seasons Of Beatrice And Katherine To Katherine, Instagram wasn’t such a big deal. To Beatrice, it served an essential function to her existence.
“To Katherine, Instagram wasn’t such a big deal. To Beatrice, it served an essential function to her existence.” – The Seasons Of Beatrice And Katherine by Emmerita Ambata.
Your Body Is A Changing Season Others say my body is a burial ground, that is why no one wanders here.
“Others say my body is a burial ground, that is why no one wanders here.” – Your Body Is A Changing Season by Veripuami Nandee Kangumine.
Misdirection Charlize was desperate to escape, and there was often nothing Uno could do to help, but this situation smelled like rotten eggs from the moment they walked in.
“Charlize was desperate to escape, and there was often nothing Uno could do to help, but this situation smelled like rotten eggs from the moment they walked in.” –– Misdirection by Charmaine //Gamxamus.
Vasbyt Hold fast, hold true. Hold on.
“Hold fast, hold true. Hold on.” — Vasbyt, an editorial by Rémy Ngamije.
Deliver Me, Anvil For most of us, metal merely offered reprieve. Reprieve from family. Reprieve from society. Reprieve from dogma. Reprieve from convention.
“For most of us, metal merely offered reprieve. Reprieve from family. Reprieve from society. Reprieve from dogma. Reprieve from convention.” – Deliver Me, Anvil by Frowin Becker.
Some Near, Some Far Auralgraphs from Botswana: Maun, Gaborone, and Borobadilepe.
“After work, and during the weekend, people turn to this river to unwind with family, friends, and colleagues. Who would not with such calming sounds in this chaotic life?” – Auralgraphs from Maun, Gaborone, and Borobadilepe by Kenanao Phele.
One Man’s Trash Replacing one type of pain with another has its uses.
“Replacing one type of pain with another has its uses.” – One Man’s Trash by Karin Eloff.
A Song In D Minor To find the memories I’m willing to share, I must delve through the red and black scarves and look again at those memories I would sooner stay buried in silt.
“To find the memories I’m willing to share, I must delve through the red and black scarves and look again at those memories I would sooner stay buried in silt.” –– A Song In D Minor by Mbozi Haimbe.