Let her be born and handled warmly.
I think back then, when I saw a film full of black faces, I would just delete it.
It is indeed more tolerant and patient now.
Looking at their lives, whether it is gorgeous, humble, busy, or leisurely, it is inevitable. At some point in their lives, feelings of helplessness and inner loneliness will come across.
The language is beautiful.
I realized I was missing something. Something promised, something so important. A laying of of hands, fingers near my forehead, strong, cool, moving, making me whole, sense, pure.
I was missing something. Something promised, something free. I know about laying on bodies, laying out a man, and bringing him all of my fleshy self, and some of my pleasure being taken, full, eager, wet, like I get sometimes. A laying on of hands, the holiness of myself released.
It was too much. I fell into numbness. Until the only tree I could see picked me up into her branches, held me in the breeze, made me dawn dew that chill at daybreak. The sum wrapped me up, swinging rose light everywhere. And the sky laid over me, like a million men. I was cold. I was burning up. I found God in myself, and I loved her fiercely.
Wake up women’s self-awareness.
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