Becca Maree

“If I die before you, I instruct the people I love, don't let my name be used for wack shit.”
― El Jones, Abolitionist Intimacies

“As if in answer to her question, an odor of decay seeped through thee doorway from the darkened shop.
Senescence, she thought. A beautiful word for what happened to all living things as they progressed toward death. Petals fading, leaves falling, stems beginning to rot.”
― Ella Griffin, The Flower Arrangement

“Harper thought it would be a toss-up, which term for women she hated more: bitch or hen. A hen was something you kept in a cage, and her sole worth was in her eggs. A bitch, at least, had teeth.”
― Joe Hill, The Fireman

“Wind warns November’s done with. The blown leaves make bat-shapes, Web-winged and furious.”
― Sylvia Plath, The Collected Poems