i feel like i haven’t posted on here in a while, but it’s only been three weeks. threads of narratives in my mind, completely avalanched over by academia, theory and the like. apart from that, life’s been magical.
i went to new orleans, a city prettier than i had imagined it. jasmine and vodoun traces on my heart, carnival stories and gypsy jazz. stopped in a shop, he told me i was beautiful, bought photographs of dead negroes, was asked my race. funereal party procession lapped muddy waves while i talked to a professional poet. stories and more stories. freakshows and hammerheads, old ladies and conjoined twins. tortured slaves, lovers, and brangelina. come back and see me, (s)he said. i don’t make return promises anymore, i replied. i’m learning not to lie when i say goodbye, learning to follow my heart.
– your strangeness is beautiful, he said.
– but i find beauty in your reflection of my ordinary Self, i thought.
hard to explain, word. golden brought up more questions, similar experiences, processed from a different vantage point.
– it’s not just in skin, gypsy heart echoed, he’s a lucky man, whoever he is.
what’s luck, but a second hand in motion?
ask the moirae, they know.
solitude has been a blessed caress. forced in the beginning then embraced like an arranged marriage accepted with a shrug. familiarity’s breeding comfort, i hope. loneliness has been a sharpened sword, and we all know how i feel about blades.
percussive force of life, needed to be put on mute. scared to turn the volume up, scared to listen. the drumbeat is everywhere again, trying not to read into omens. but my bones know how to listen to the drums, try to tell me. i’m a newborn again, i’ve been there before, and it’s not just a river in egypt.
the worst thing right now is: there will soon no longer be. it’s hard to speak that one fear.
i don’t wan’t no trouble, just a little loving, i wanna get to know ya, i don’t want your money, you oughta get to know me, my love’ll make you wonder, lightning and thunder, i get it from my mama.