ode to the black woman

there have been many a days when loving myself has felt like a sentence rather than freedom. to live in a world, where being black, let alone a woman, is a sentence. I am not given permission to love my broad nose, my curly, thick hair, coarse to the earth; my skin, matching the tone […]

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red, the yellow lights

there are moments in this lifetime when all I have is you on my mind. the way your finger strokes my cheek, softly, gently, with every bit of your love for me seeping through your skin, into mine. the moments when I can connect with you, to spend time, merely sitting and reading, just being […]

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