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I am often expected to write for someone A loved one A best friend The black race girls I can’t say yes, or no to any of these.
This morning I felt different I stared at my mirror My naked body staring back at me I tilted my body to one side Then back again
Why was I cursed For only trying to love a child? She did not come from my womb But how I longed To hold her near my breast In comfort
Dear Blk girlCan I ask you why youBeSoChill ?Like Chicago lake front winds got not a damn thing on you?Like ice cube and Ice tea been trying to sue you for copyright infringement?
i didn't always know there was such a thing as a ‘colored girl’ didn't always wear my bruised peach skin like a mink fur coat something to be
the poppies I walked along the trail I traveled frequently. Why did all the poppies die? Is it because the sky did not cry for their sorrows and the grew bitter and dried up?
Whoever determined beauty must have been angry. Especially at black folks. Why must we relax our kinks and precious curls? Do we have to have to sit still to hot comb our kitchens?
I've known rivers: I've known rivers ancient as the world and older than the flow of human blood in human veins. My soul has grown deep like the rivers.
To perm or not to perm-that is the question: Whether it is nobler in the mind to embrace the kink The twist outs, the rollers and the de-tangler
Hot combs, creme relaxer Ceramic finish of an iron. Spritz so the style holds. Changes with the decade, but the fascination never gets old. Needles & thread, Packs or bundles 10-20 inches long