la louve à la lune ǀ the wolf to the moon
Original works of poetry, fiction, creative non-fiction and essays by A. M. Wilsonne
God is good... but I am exhausted. --- And so was he--exhausted. Exhausting his final breath in a forceful cry at the moment of unmerited abandonment by God himself restrained by his own mutilated hands and feet naked and humiliated violated by the very souls for whom he would secure salvation by the very souls... Continue Reading →
When it doesn't work. Because we are different. In ways that are utter extremes. You wanted more of something I could not give. I wanted more of something you could not believe. A brief together. followed by. An indefinite separation. O. If I could have even just a bit of you. Every now and then.... Continue Reading →
Les hommes? Les hommes me blessent. Ils me blessent d'une douleur vive qui me pèsent le cœur d'un poids qui ne ressemble à aucun autre. comme je suis piquée juste à côté du fond du cœur par un couteau. Le sang coule Le liquide ne s'échappant pas de ma poitrine. Y'a de la pression qui... Continue Reading →
"If you look at how long it takes for a person to save up to buy a house-that's sort of the hot indicator now-San Francisco, you know, the Bay Area, we're looking at 27 to 30 years. So basically, you're just not going to buy a house. Seattle's not there yet, but it's still 15... Continue Reading →
"What happens to a dream deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?"¹ The spark of inspiration - Once upon the twenty first century, March 11, 1959 to be precise, a twenty-eight year old African American, female, middle class-raised, college drop-out, intellectual, journalist, activist, artist, communist, interracially married, queer, Chicago native author... Continue Reading →
la louve à la lune ǀ the wolf to the moon 