how many early mornings do we share awake under the same roof? do we have solidarity in muffling feelings because every wall in this house is a formality? is that a silver lining “solidarity”? i never meant it so literally when i said womanhood is an inherent prison. the weight of our bodies and souls are nested in this house and our bodies are russian nesting dolls bursting with insecurities of each other. we are a nuclear family in every sense of the phrase.