This editorial is a love letter for the displaced, the gifted, and the spiritually dislocated. Buried in Our Blood explores the psychic and cellular memories carried by the African diaspora—how past lives, ancestral trauma, and spiritual technologies shape who we are and the futures we’re building. It is a reclamation of power through embodied truth.

At five years old, I watched a voodoo priestess enter my kitchen and awaken something in me I’d never forget. My mother called it imagination. But my body knew better. There Was a Dead Chicken in the Middle of the Kitchen Floor is a visceral, poetic remembrance of ancestral power, psychic inheritance, and the kind of truth that can’t be silenced—even when it’s denied.