My sisters heal, my sisters feel my sisters keep it real. My sisters energize, my sisters spiritualize, my sisters mentally mobilize. We come together in sacred space shrouded and blessed in rose mist. We raise up from prone position and apathy from being invisible. We lay down our burdens on the altar and leave them there. We take light hearts into spherical sanctuary. We release failures, thoughts and false perceptions to grow and flow into who we are meant to be. We breathe giving ourselves and our sisters grace that will permeate into everything around us. We are no longer ruled by data and statistics because we are semi-titions using our power to create new systems. We call the ancestors who paved our way by scrubbing floors and smiling when they did not want to. We recognize the great ones who show us the way in our dreams on raky tables, on yoga mats and each other's laughter. We listen to the venerated ones who tell us to save ourselves and be who we were born to be. We give birth to our saviors, HBCU, Ivy League Millennials with Melonated Nines. We assess, we propose, we initiate with the artistic flair of Ailee's finest revelation. We network, we create, we collaborate, feeling in the canvases Carol Walker cut out. We liberate ourselves, our families each other from labels that no longer fit our true identity as cosmic beings. We had chefsuits and wear the crown, we hairy a tuppman and go underground. We search our true and claim our I.N. We then Lou Hamer get knocked down and spring up again. Now is the age of stillness with self care. We will not raise a single hand and shift this entire paradigm. My sisters heal, my sisters feel, my sisters keep it real. My sisters energize, my sisters spiritualize, my sisters mentally mobilize. Suppleverse in mind candy for the sunken place. Poetry to heal the heart and spirit. Time to heal, time to restore, time to evolve. Order on World Stage Press, Amazon or visit nighybillingslee.com. You