I Am A Black Lesbian

It Is Not Our Differences That Divide Us. It Is Our Inability To Recognize, Accept, And Celebrate Those Differences.

Every Woman I Have Ever Loved Has Left Her Print Upon Me, Where I Loved Some Invaluable Piece Of Myself Apart From Me-so Different That I Had To Stretch And Grow In Order To Recognize Her. And In That Growing, We Came To Separation, That Place Where Work Begins.

All Writers Have Periods When They Stop Writing, When They Cannot Write, And This Is Always Painful And Terrible Because Writing Is Like Breathing.

I Have Come To Believe That Caring For Myself Is Not Self-indulgent. Caring For Myself Is An Act Of Survival.

If You Come As Softly As Wind Within The Trees You May Hear What I Hear See What Sorrow Sees. If You Come As Lightly As Threading Dew I Will Take You Gladly Nor Ask More Of You. You May Sit Beside Me Silent As A Breath Only Those Who Stay Dead Shall Remember Death. And If You Come I Will Be Silent Nor Speak Harsh Words To You. I Will Not Ask You Why, Now. Or How, Or What You Do. We Shall Sit Here, Softly Beneath Two Different Years And The Rich Earth Between Us Shall Drink Our Tears.