A PanAfricanist Queer Womanist Collective
Losing them inhibitions, getting naked with the lights on and singing one of those cheesy love songs. Tattooing that long name onto parts of myself that I’ve always kept on lock down down down…
Don’t know how to express these things in ways they haven’t been said before, so forgive me if my…story sounds a little like a Disney re-run. Worst yet like The Young and The Restless.
Gosh I get young and restful – body tempted – any time that body becomes a close warm nest of good feelings.
Finger tips tingling at the very thought, lady parts asking: “can you hear the thumping of blood rushing to my head?” Steady swaying into big dark arms falling in and out of ‘love’. Misunderstood infatuations. ‘’How do I breathe without you?” I want to know. Let’s not find out. Hide the sharp objects lest their clarity captures my attention better than your own.
Lost inhibitions getting naked in the dark touching in the city sun-lights…