Aurielle Marie


Award winning poet, essayist and Freedom Fighter Aurielle Marie is a child of the Deep South and an Atlanta native. She received her bachelors in Social Justice Strategy and Hip-Hop Theory from the Evergreen State College, and is an MFA candidate at the University of Alabama. Aurielle has received many awards for her political activism, including being named one of Creative Loafing Atlanta’s 20 People to Watch (2015), being a Kopkind Colony Journalism/Activism awardee, and a Roddenberry Fellowship Finalist. Aurielle’s poetry has been featured or is forthcoming in the TriQuarterly, Southeast Review, Black Warrior, BOAAT Journal, Sycamore Review, Adroit Journal, Vinyl Poetry, Palette Poetry, and Ploughshares. She's received invitations to fellowships from Lambda Literary, VONA Voices, and Tin House. Aurielle is a 2017 winner of the Blue Mesa Review poetry award, and a Write Bloody Book prize. She’s the Lambda Literary 2019 Poetry Emerging Writer-in-Residence. She won the 2019 Ploughshares Emerging Writers Award for Poetry. As an essayist, Aurielle traverses subjects of justice, Blackness, bodies, sex and pop culture in a timely and urgent voice that pulls from a Black feminist lens. She has bylines in The Guardian, Bitch Media, Allure Magazine, Essence, Wear Your Voice, NBC, and Teen Vogue. Source

Like a Freedom Too Strange to be Conquered

i pretend to cut


my eyes at you             


                                    in line




for water


swat your laugh away


from my neck in the hall


you got a mouth that


like a ‘lil nip    anyway


i change your name in


my journal to Marcus


surrounded by petals


in each, a letter


spelling                          out into bloom


damn.  even here in my


own private truth I can’t say


yes i love                       and it


is the youngest, freshest thang


yes i love                       and at


the formal we gon dance the way


children dance— bodies rubbin


hard against imagination & bone,


pantin before we even know 


why, droolin the lyrics of our


mothers favorite poems into


one another’s ear— oh,                          , yes


imma moan your whole name


into a roll of toilet paper and


flush. i swear, imma play dead 


on the black top. i wanna tell the world 


about you & i can’t. i wanna tell the world


about me but i ain’t met her yet. 


i wanna tell the world somethin


other than ooo Fidel Lee so fine


man fuck that nigga & his sweaty hands


i’d rather dance in the thursday sun


that is your name. that is your laugh.


i wanna toil in a queerness that ain’t


nobody punch line       & speaking of strike —


somehow it was just the two of us


in a bathroom on the third floor that first time


i wash my hands and keep my eyes out the mirror


auri                             you say my name


                                    like a damned flute


auri                             & i turn slower than worlds


your lips are there & my lips are there & oh god


i love you i love you i love you & was the freest me                right then.





Literary Movements:


Anthology Years:



LGBTQ+ Experience

Love & Relationships

Literary Devices:


a figure of speech in which words repeat at the beginning of successive clauses, phrases, or sentences


a break between words within a metrical foot


words or phrases repeated one after another in quick succession