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Shara McCallum


Under Water

Summer 1999 | Poetry

The sea wants to enter the house: finding its way inside with sand behind our ears, salt lingering on our skin. We lock the doors, latch windows, draw curtains to a close and still the roar permeates these walls. In our dreams, the rush and pul [...]


Summer 1999 | Poetry

If my tongue were forced to leave my mouth, if I couldn't manage the hard consonants of this language, I'd find a way to speak still: to tell you how I once rocked to that flicker in my mind, my body in time to the white-blue flame; to whisper stor [...]

In My Other Life,

Summer 1999 | Poetry

I was born with a stone in my hand. My first word was not muma. I learned from early on that duppy know who to frighten and chose carefully. I learned to tell the truth an shame the devil, to be seen when not heard, to spell names of places I would s [...]