inspired by the film Eve’s Bayou
title found in Wanda Coleman’s archive

It is our fathers in whom we trust We exit purple wombs & clamor
for their hard, empty gazes We have been taught to unlove ourselves
to bask in the shadow of a man who cannot even give life Our errors

are unique—in that we expected A return on the devotion If we
southern women can’t do nothing else, We can protect a man & his
worship value The ghosts have always known yet, we ignored

their haunts, planted ourselves against Wet molasses & stilled waters
If playing with death were a virtue, we’d be untethered, unanchored
Instead of pillars of salted gems weathered on riverbanks Waiting for

the sun the settle on his brutal begging face A father’s love is
dangerous and unforgiving. If we were honest & spilled our truths
from our lonely mouths Would anybody have believed us We only

wanted to be held If only temporary Full of sparse wild crosses bent
to needle inside bleeding walls A chronic nightmare swinging black.

—

Ashunda is a Black feminist who loves the ocean, obscure cinema and star Sirius. Her creative work encompasses film, poetics, archiving and her own theoretical frameworks. Ashunda’s art centers the complexities of Black {Southern} womxnhood, spiritual traditions of the Black South, futuristic maroon expressions and fugitivity. She has written, directed, and produced several short films, including her most recent multi-award-winning cinematic gesture, MINO: A Diasporic Myth; now streaming on kweliTV. A two-time Furious Flower Poetry Prize finalist, Ashunda holds fellowships from Cave Canem, Torch Literary Arts, the California Arts Council, Brooklyn Poets, and Starshine & Clay. Her writing has been featured or is forthcoming in Evergreen Review, Salamander, Gulf Coast, Obsidian, Taint Taint Taint, Root Work Journal, Fence, and elsewhere. Born and raised in the heart of rural, red clay Georgia, Ashunda is now a bonafide, citified bitch living and dreaming in Los Angeles.