A few of the poems were brilliant and kicked me in the gut. Others had a turn of phrase that made me inhale deeply and savor it. Unfortunately, most of the poems were fairly unassuming or felt sloppy and rough, but the small gems made it a worthwhile read. There's a lot of potential here, and I would be interested in reading more from Chisala once she's become more polished.

(I got a bit tired of all the poems that started with "my darling" or "my love" or another greeting, like it was the start of a letter instead of a poem. A few times was fine but it was definitely a trend in the collection that felt tired after a while.)

This poem basically summed up my feelings about Chisala's poetry. She's still learning, but I think she'll get there someday.

I am still learning to make language
out of pain,
to write out all the ache.
I am still teaching my fragile
and my strong
that they can co-exist. ( )