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[content_warngin type="sexism, blood, pregnancy"]

There are women
who have let truth fill their mouths
like sunrise
Women
who have built homes
in broken wombs
to mend what is lost
They are daughters
of storms
of the burning wind
of a healing they have kept
under their skirts
under their tongues
These are women
who have danced to an ancient pain
of memories passed down
like blood
They made a savior
out of deep love they had
for themselves
for their skin
for their heritage




Thato Angela Chuma is a Motswana singer, poet and writer. Her poetry has featured in literary magazines such as Words Dance Publishing, Saraba Magazine, Brittle Paper, The Kalahari Review and The Machinery India.
Current Issue
10 Aug 2026

the sleeping are so hard to distinguish / from the dead
We'd only lived in Arizona four years—it was our retirement place. But I'd died there, and she'd dumped my ashes out in the desert without fanfare, without any poem or prayer, unless you considered, “Jesus, Marty, don't leave me. Why'd you leave me, you old bastard" to be an elegy.
Nature, desecrated, refused to yield more than bone
Strange Horizons is looking to add an additional social media editor and a Patreon editor to our editorial collective. These roles will entail working in tandem with our existing social media editor, Isana Skeete, our fundraising editor, Josh Kidd, and our management team. 
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By: Aimee Ogden
Podcast read by: Jenna Hanchey
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