molten time
// or perhaps
memories, wet with windings and wanderings,
wondering and the wariness
and weariness
the waxed (and waned) songs
the many psalms
sung and hung
from expectant arms
beings of ground pulled
from homes soused with
the whispers of living ghosts
i came to give offerings at the place
where trees come to dip their toes
perhaps i appear Narcissus
face open wide
lips protruded to plant kisses on the
skin of time
eyes locked on the moving of reflections
and remembrances and re-cognitions
but i came to hum away the dank of my own superstitions
to stare into the mouth of before
and smell the sweet, sweet breath of
ages dancing coquette with unborn
//id be in prayer if i weren’t so here
to dip fingers
and brush hands with ghosts
i feel them hum in my joints
you’ve seen it all, now
you’ve seen it all.
khaliah d. pitts is a writer, food educator + consultant. a philadephia native + lifelong artist, her work is dedicated to preserving health + culture, building community + documenting the stories of brown + black peoples.
khaliah co-created Our Mothers’ Kitchens, a culinary + literature project for Black folk in 2016, which currently counts itself among the 2018 cohort for the A Blade of Grass Fellowship for Social Engaged Art.
her writings have been published in such publications as Blackberry: a magazine, The Fem Lit Mag, A Gathering Together, A Garden of Black Joy Poetry Anthology (forthcoming) and From Our Kitchens: Recipes from the Philadelphia Assembled Kitchen, on which she also acted as editor.
VAGABOND CITY 