"Confetti are small pieces or streamers of paper, mylar, or metallic material which are usually thrown at celebrations, especially parades and weddings. The origins are from the Latin confectum, with confetti the plural of Italian confetto, small sweet." -Wiki 

Hi hi hi! It is so exciting that you're here. Thank you for being here. 

I am hummingbird heart glitter on the lake ready to share the things I love with you. In this monthly newsletter, you can expect confetti. Tossing poetry on my tip-toes like it's a party. Because it is a party. This whole being alive in Autumn thing. Have you looked at the ground lately? Noticed how leaves turn to gold flakes under your shoes-- like this neighborhood is a damn ballroom. 

I weave light into words so that

When your mind holds them

Your eyes will relinquish their sadness,

Turn bright, a little brighter, giving to us

The way a candle does

To the dark

I have wrapped my laughter like a birthday gift

And left it beside your bed.

Hafiz

I'm Zyna. Today is Sunday and I have big, pink headphones on. To get in the *mood* for this newsletter, I've been listening to my favorite band of all time, The Avett Brothers. I fell in love with them during high school. Boys in flannels would play covers at coffee shops and I would dance, eyes closed, surrounded by stars or string lights or lightning bugs. 

I live in Seattle now! My cheeks are constantly a little bit cold and I love it. I love my patio where I make paper and write poems on my typewriter. I love the park nearby where we take our dog, Mambo, to play. I love living with my best friend/partner- how we drink coffee and laugh at Twitter and make grocery lists and kiss! Love that he's making banana bread today and this morning we had a sweet potato hash. 

This summer I reconnected with poetry after 6 years of not writing. I think I spent the whole summer writing about flowers. That's how I made it through the summer when George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbury, and countless others were murdered by police. White rage is fucking scary. It is scary knowing you could be laying in bed, cuddling with your love, in an apartment you decorated together - and a police officer could storm in and take your life just for being Black.

It's scary and it's scary and it's heavy and it's heavy. Sometimes it feels impossible to press on- then there's that particular spot of sun, there's that peach the size of my head, dandelion seeds that float with the wind so I breathe in the sun and the peach and the wind and I breathe for those who can't.  

I am passionate about Black joy as an act of liberation-- being "incongruently joyful in a world that targets us" (adrienne marie brown).

I believe it is important to witness Black people living. And playing. And laughing. And loving. And looking at flowers. 

Although we have been “born into a society which spelled out with brutal clarity, and in as many ways as possible" (James Baldwin), that we are undeserving, "we must reclaim our whole, happy selves from the impacts [. . .] of oppression and white supremacy." (amb)

“We must have the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless furnace of this world”. - Jack Gilbert

I am here. Looking at flowers. I am here. Playing. Being stubborn enough to "risk delight".

Once I month, I'll send you an email with:

• what's inspiring me lately! i.e. what I'm reading, seeing, listening to...
• behind the scenes of poetry & crafts #showyourwork
• miscellaneous musings <3 

I hope these emails can feel like little parties in your inbox. Let's celebrate nothing and everything together. 

won't you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
 

Lucille Clifton 

Yours on tip toes with confetti in hand,

Zyna