SHE…was a girl of 20 when she realized that her heart had stopped moving. Sure she could breathe, but her inhales and exhales had somehow become mechanical. The quiet song between heartbeats no more.
She was known as “she” because so many folks had names for her and none were the name she was born with. Folks had deemed her unredeemable very early because she was at once familiar and foreign. Familiar enough to irk her aunties; and foreign enough to put off her cousins. Born a brilliant blue in a field of green she often sat in silence when others frightfully roared. She was a sensitive among thick-skinned heroes. She was dark when others were light, ever long and round in short narrow spaces. But oh so young, and charmed by her own she-ness, she danced in the fullness of herself, naked and free, her cerulean leaps and indigo spins awash in blue beauty.Read More