brooklyn born intuitive mystic.
life and death doula.
story and the storyteller.
I stand in my room tonight- 386 miles from the vestibule of your brownstone building, where you raised me. The smoked mahogany house
By Kodi Elyese3 years ago in Poets
Something my grandmother would say when passing an extremely large cemetery: Grandmother: Guess how many dead people are in there?
By Kodi Elyese3 years ago in Families
My Grandmother's Leg One small cut above the Achilles tendon cracking into swollen pockets of puss, golden with rot. Drying bone peeking through ashen flesh
By Kodi Elyese3 years ago in Fiction