Short Stories

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 Private Time

Today I feel a little humdrum.  Maybe I need to find something to do to make my day feel slightly better.  Lately, I have been feeling bottled up.  I need to release.  So I decide to do what a woman does best…RELAX.

I go and slip out of my thongs, which have been keeping me company all day.  I continue to undress knowing that the only thing that can hold me the way I need to be held is a nice warm shower.  I run the water until the steam clouds the bathroom. The temperature is just the way I want it.  It is more hot than cold but not hot enough to scald the skin.  I decide to set an ambiance by burning a lavender scented candle and turning on my “Kemistry” CD by Kem.  I turn the ringer off on my phone so I will not be disturbed.

I step into the water as Kem begins crooning “Matter of Time”.  I lather up my loofah sponge and begin with a circular motion on my arms.  They have been so sore from trying to hold myself up when my mind won’t let me.  I begin to cascade down to my breast.  They perk up at my touch.  The lather proceeds to run down my body touching crevices that I never thought imaginable.  The hairs stand up on my body from the tickling of the suds.  I slowly rotate my neck—down, left, back, right.  The water beats on my skin like a masseuse.  “’Cause People go from bad to good in just a blink of an eye”, Kem sings, “…It’s a matter of time before I find my way home”.  I reflect upon the events of my day and realize that I can’t allow people’s stupidity to drive me insane.  Today had really been a hectic one.  I did not even notice that I had begun to cry until I realized that the water streaming down my face wasn’t from the shower.

Track No. 2 begins as I mentally walk through my recent journey--the move, my new job, my new love.  I have been through so much over the past years.  I started to think about all the places that I should have been and all the places I hoped I was going. I went back to the loofah taking the time to focus on my legs that are tired from all the running that I have done.  The muscles on my calf throb with the overwhelming stress of the world.  “Girl, I miss you.”  I really miss that girl, that girl that used to light up the world.  I miss that girl that use to turn the head of every unavailable woman or man in the room.  I miss her every time I look in the mirror. I had no idea where she had gone to; I just knew that she was no longer with me.

“You remember how good love can be.”  I close my eyes and let the water continue to run on the face and wash the lather away.  I start to think about all the “loves” of my life.  I can still feel the pain of my biggest heartbreak.  I try to get over it but it is lodged so deep inside of me, I don’t know if I will recover.  I then change from the Loofah to my special sponge that I use to wash my delicate area.  I lather up my sponge and proceed to clean God’s gift.  It jumps at my touch reminding me that I have not given it any personal attention lately.  “You’ll never leave me here in the dark”.   I rinse myself thoroughly and get my other sponge for my “back” area.  I do not mix my sponges. Call me anal (no pun intended) but I like everyone to feel special.”

Kem continues onto the fourth track, “I am living inside your love”. I start moving to the music.  I feel the stress start to deteriorate.  My body is feeling alive again.  I am starting to hum to the music. I have been in the shower a long time but today it was necessary.  I decide to finish off with my back scrub to rid myself of the weight of the world that is killing my spine.  I cut off the shower and step onto my mat. I then grab the towel to enwrap my body. I carry the candle into my room and place it on the dresser.

I slowly towel off.  I put on my baby lotion and oil.  I am feeling like a virgin again, new to life and ready to be broken in.  “I’m missing your love”. I put on my favorite cologne, “Dolce Gabana.” I am being surrounding by the bass and the sultry voice as Kem continues his flow.  The air is filled with my scent.  I pull out my “Angel” nightgown and slide on my favorite slippers.  I remove my cap to let my hair down.  As it slides down my back, I still feel like something is missing.  I glance in the mirror and grin. I know exactly what I need.

I go into my favorite DVD and pull out the one that always ignites my sexual responses. I pop it in but this time I will have no sound.  “There’s no where to hide, when love is calling your name.”  I will watch my movie to the sound of my music.  I go to my favorite scene where there are 4 women—3 strapped up and slowly are making love to each other-- to pause it.  One “strapee” is riding another girl.  The girl that is being ridden has been inserted in her vagina and the one that is in the girl’s vagina has a woman in her ass. Everyone is cumming and moaning simultaneously.  That always starts my juices flowing.  I can feel the throbbing from within.  Track 5 begins as I go to my drawer and locate my special friend with the phallus extension that gyrates along the clitoris attachment that vibrates.  Before I begin, I opt to have a glass of Merlot to put an icing on the cake.

My body is excited at the anticipation of being explored.  It has been a minute since I took private time with myself. “We may never love again, so when it comes let’s embrace it”.  I lay my plushest towel on the bed to begin my rendezvous.  The Merlot hits the spot as it warms my body internally.  I decide that I want this one to be the one. I want to cum like never before.  I guess this is my own personal therapy. To achieve that I feel like I will need some extra stimulation so I pull my nipple clips out of the drawer. I prop myself up and let the next tune engulf my body.  I clear my head of all that clouds it and watch as my ladies take me to that place.  I “wet” up my special friend and slowly insert her.  I push the button for the gyrating to begin.  I decide to begin it on “low” so that I am able to enjoy each movement.  It has been so long since I made love to myself. I move my hips to the rhythm.  I could go on “high” but I love the way this feels to me.  The pressure of the clips is sending me to my “piece of resistance” a little sooner than planned.  I turn on the vibrator. Damn, my clit jumps to attention and starts swelling.  I know it won’t be long before I explode into my self. My ladies have now switched positions and now it is 2 couples convulsing on their way to their next orgasm. I close my eyes because I can feel that “air”.  You, know the air that takes your breath away.

“Late at night I will come to you, here’s to our love…I do”.  The world is spinning and my breath is short.  I don’t know how much longer I can stand it.  My breasts are hurting from the stiffness of my nipples in the clips as I begin that orgasmic journey.  Pain is my friend today.  I welcome it. I need it.  Tears come into my eyes as my life flashes before me. “Until now, my weakness is all I know but with your love, I’m strong.” I scream as everything escapes me.  The CD is coming to close as tears run down my eyes.  My body is quivering. “I’m strong.”

Five minutes pass.  I get up to clean myself off and cut the ringer back on.  I turn off the DVD and blow out the candle.  I am feeling revitalized. I am feeling like I can do anything and nothing can keep me down.  The phone rings.  It is my best friend.  “Hey, girl, I have been trying to call you.  Where you been?” she says.  “I have been here.  I just needed sometime, some private time,” I tell her.

Renair Amin ©2004

A Cry For Help

Another day, at this God forsaken place, lord knows it has to be a better way.
Zee, what are you over there mumbling about? Dede asked, eagerly, as she filed papers
in the file cabinet, as the noise level in the tiny office, drowned out her squeaky voice.
“Nothing girl, I am just sick of coming in here everyday, that’s all!”
Zee you say that everyday, yet you show up for work everyday, you want to know what I think?
No, but I am sure you are going to tell me anyway. “Yes, actually I am, I think you should shit or get off the pot!”
Just as Zee was about to respond to her petti partner, a loud, demanding, voice yelled across the office, “Officer McClain! Get your ass in here, NOW!” Oh shit, what did you do now Zee? A scratchy male’s voice asked. The lieutenant sounds pissed off.
I don’t know what the hell is wrong with your daddy Parks, maybe he’s mad at your momma.
Hey watch it Zee, leave my momma out of this.
“No Parks, that is what she should have done with you, left you at the hospital.”
Laughter fills the tiny office, as the loud scream returns, “McClain, I said get your ass in here now!”
Zee walks towards the lieutenant’s office, head hung down, hands in her pockets, and a half smile on her face. “Yes, boss, what is it this time?” Zee sarcastically asked.
Another damn complaint McClain, beating on inmates again. This is the third one this week. What and how am I going to explain this to the warden?
I do not know what you are talking about boss.
Don’t play games with me Zee, I know all about you and that damn Parks, late night recreation with the inmates.  I’m warning you now, it better stop soon. I am not going to keep covering up shit for you and that hot head Parks.
“Like I said boss, I do not know what you are talking about.”
“Get the hell out of my office!”
The noise level in the office had died down, Zee and her partner on the job, Dede, which everyone affectionately referred to as, “Little Bit” headed toward the dreaded cellblocks, which housed the inmates, serving time at the maximum security prison. Zee had been employed there for 11 years to date and Little Bit had been there 2 and half years to date. Zee had taken Dede under her wing and showed her the ropes. She took a liking to Dede, sort of like a little sister role. Zee was concerned about Dede because she was
little. Zee worried about her and her ability to deal with and handle the inmate population.

Little Bit had very charming personality, everyone, including some of the inmates took a liking to her. She was very easy to talk too, a good listener, and she had a way of dealing with the inmates and their concerns unlike any other officer working there, yet Zee was still always concerned about her Little Bit, Dede.
As they entered the cellblock, the inmates were yelling out roars of abusive, vulgar, obscenities at them.
Hey baby, come over here. Let me smell that thing!
Yo!  McClain, when was the last time you had a man?
“The same as the last time you had a woman, punk!” Zee angrily yelled back at the inmate. Dede encouraged Zee to just ignore him and keep walking.  Zee stated, “You see that’s why I hate coming in here everyday.”
Yeah, I now Zee, but it pays the bills.
Again, as I said earlier, “it has to be a better way!”
The cellblock was as long as two football fields and two tiers high, housing over 500 inmates, that only 5 officers patrolled. Each cellblock was the same, the prison had six cellblocks, all housing approximately the same amount of inmates. However, the cellblock Zee and Dede worked was the most notorious. The inmates housed on that cellblock were serving sentences ranging from 20 years to life. Each day was an adventure, each different from the next, although everyday was a routine, with feeding times, the exercising  period, mail call and the visitation times. Each day presented its own challenges and learning experiences. As Zee and Dede patrolled the cellblock, it seems that all was normal and according to schedule, then a fight broke out between two inmates, Zee immediately got in between them, breaking up the fight before it could get out of hand, as Dede called for assistance. All available, officers responded to the call for assistance and quickly assisted Zee in securing the inmates involved and taking them to a restricted area. As the officers escorted the two inmates that were fighting, off the cellblock, other inmates were shouting at them, “This shit isn’t over with, yall better strap up, get ready for the shit!”
Zee gave the inmate yelling, a direct order to refrain from his comments. Just as quick as the problem had started it ended.
Lock down time! Dede instructed all the inmates to report to the respective cells and prepare for count. It was quitting time, Zee and Dede had planned to hang out with the fellas after work for a few drinks and a few rounds of pool. Parks called the cellblock to ask Zee was she still going to meet the guys at the bar, Dede answered the call and informed Parks that they would be there.
Walking to their perspective cars in the parking lot, Zee told Dede that she would see her tomorrow and to be careful driving home.
YO! Zee, I thought you were going to meet the fellas at the bar? Parks called and I told him that we would be there.
Well you should have checked with me first. I have to go straight home Little Bit, things with Maxine and me haven’t been exactly perfect. We have some issue going on and I wouldn’t be helping the situation any by hanging out with you and the fellas.
Zee, you can go for a minute, at least one game of pool, c’mon, first round on me.
No Little Bit, I really cannot. Tell the fellas, some other time, ok.
Ok, tight ass, I’ll let them know you had to take your pussy whipped behind home. Nevertheless, you are going to regret not hanging out with me tonight, I start my vacation in two days and you will not see me for at least two weeks, you’re going to miss me punk.
They both giggled and exchanged good byes. When Dede showed up at the bar without Zee, Parks was the first to notice.
Where is Zee?
She had to turn in early, trouble on the home front.
Damn, I was so looking forward to kicking her ass in a game of nine ball.
The night passed on slowly as the officers discussed their problems, children, inmates, and concerns of the daily grind.
The day was a dreary one. Everyone was at work except Parks.
Where is Parks? Zee asked, “you all left him at the bar last night?”
Before anyone could answer, a call for assistance came over the radio. Everyone ran out of the office. They headed towards the cellblock .As they entered into the cellblock it was chaotic, the inmates were throwing stuff off the tiers, fights were going on between officers and inmates, and inmates on inmates, fires were being set, Blood was everywhere, bodies were lying on the floor, unable to be determine if they were dead or alive. It was difficult to tell where the ciaos started and where it ended. It was complete mayhem. Zee called on her radio, informed the captain that they would need further assistance. Things were out of control. The captain immediately called the state police and National Guard. A full, scale riot had just broken out. Zee and the others hadn’t realized it was that serious until it was too late. They had just run into a living nightmare. Zee stood there frozen in awe, Dede was calling to her, requesting help with another officer that had been lying in a pool of blood. Zee just stood there unable to move, frozen in fear, when in an instant, Dede felled to the floor, an inmate had just cut her throat from behind. Zee then snapped out of it, yelling.
“No! Dede, No, my God No! Somebody help me?”
Zee yelled out to Dede as Little Bit just dropped motionless to the floor. Zee tackled the inmate, slamming his head to the floor, rendering him unconscious. The state police entered into the cellblock armed with automatic weapons, and began to fire tear gas onto the cellblock as they gave out warnings to all inmates to get on the floor, before they were to open fire with the loaded, automatic weapons. Zee had picked up Dede and exited the cellblock through all the smoke and ciaos. She headed towards the infirmary crying and pleading for help.
When she reached the infirmary, medical staff was there but were unable to help Little Bit. Zee just fell to her knees, uncontrollable tears and grief filled her up. She had blamed her self for the demise of her dear friend and co-worker. When the situation had somewhat settled, Zee went looking for the inmate responsible, but was quickly detained by the captain and lieutenant. She screamed and hollered for them to let her go but to no avail. Grief and Guilt consumed her, as she just collapsed onto the floor. The captain tried unsuccessfully to hold her up.
Zee was giving time off work to regroup. While Little Bit’s family prepared for her final arrangements, Zee stayed away. Maxine tried as best she could to comfort Zee, but it seems the harder she would try, the further Zee would sink into depression. The morning of the funeral, Zee stood behind a tree outside of Dede’s house. The funeral precessions passed by. Dede’s sister notice Zee standing behind the tree, but decided to keep it to herself, she just smiled and waved at Zee as the car passed by.
 Zee began to drink more. Calling off work regularly, and not dealing with the problems between her and Maxine. Parks visited several times trying to get Zee to hang out with the fellas, but each time it would just remind her of the statement Dede said to her the night they were all to hang out and shoot pool. It seems as if Zee was going to drown herself in sorrow and self-pity. Her co-workers, friends and family alike were all concerned for her, but none more than her loving woman, “Maxine.”
“Zee, baby we need to talk.”
“Not now, Max!”
“Yes now, Zee!”
Baby we cannot go on like this.
So what, now you want to leave me, is that it?
“Dammit Zee, I am not going to let you attack me like this!” “Now baby I love you, but I cannot keep living like this.” “What happened to Dede was a tragic thing honey, but it is nothing you or anyone else could do to bring her back.” “Nobody is blaming you Zee but you.” “Baby you have to deal with this, get some help, for God’s sake baby please!”
“Maxine, I do not want to talk about this now ok!”
“No Zee you have to deal with this, honey it’s killing us! You have to be strong for us.”
“I am strong Max, just give me time.”
“Time, Zee honey it’s been a year now, how much time you need?” “Baby I cannot do this any longer!”
Maxine begins to cry, Zee is not able to bring herself to comfort her, so Zee just walks out of the room into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of gin. Maxine walks into the kitchen, barely holding back her tears.
“Zee, you have to get some help honey, I’m going to go stay with my sister Brenda for a while.” “I love you Zee, but I am not going to let you kill me. I cannot help you if you do not allow me too.” Maxine walks up to Zee and kisses her softly on the cheek, turns and walks out.  Zee just took her glass of gin into the living room, sat on the couch for a minute, took a sip of her gin, stared at the wall, began crying, then yelled out, “dammit Little Bit, why, why you?” Threw the glass up against the wall and fell back on the couch sobbing.
Later that evening a knock at the door woke Zee. She got up of the couch to answer the door. It was Parks.
Hey, are you going to let me in? Do I have to call your daddy?
“Hey, come on in Parks,” Zee instructed lethargically.
 “Zee, you should hire a house cleaner or someone, a hooker, anyone to clean this place up.” Parks stated sarcastically to Zee.
 Zee replied, “I tried, but your mother said she was busy on weekends.”
“Ok, well at least you still have a sense of humor, which is more that I can say about your pulse.” “Zee you have to hang out with us, the fellas miss you.”
“No punk, you miss me picking up your tap.”
“Well yeah, there is that also.” “Nevertheless, you have to come hang with us, you owe me a game of nine ball.” “The gang and I can’t settle a bet until I beat your ass at a game of nine ball, so how about it Zee?”
“No thanks!”
“Hey Zee come on, besides, you have to pick up my last tap.”
Which you mean last tap, you stop drinking?
“No! The boss said if you do not bring your ass into work, you were not going to have a job.”
“Oh, the hell with him, he is probably glad I am not there. He has no complaints, nothing to answer to the warden about.”
Parks let’s out a belly laugh as he gets up to exit, then turns and gives Zee a bear hug, as he tells her, “ hey don’t tell anyone I hugged you, I wouldn’t want it to get out that I like you or anything like that.” They both laughed, and then Parks asked,
Hey, how is Max?
“She’s ok. She is staying at her sister’s for a while.”
Which one would that be, the pretty fox Brenda?
“Yep! That be the one.”
“I think I will go see how she is doing myself.”
Goodbye, Parks!
“Bye Zee, hurry up back to work, the gang misses you.”
“Yeah sure, I’ll try.”
The night sets in, Zee stairs at the wall. A drink in hand, the phone rings, its Maxine once again pleaded with her to get help. Zee began to yell at Max, saying how she wish everyone would just leave her alone about getting help and just let her deal with things on her own. Maxine just tells Zee how very much she loves her and hangs up. Brenda puts her arms around her little sister, telling her it was all going to be all right in time. Max just cried uncontrollably as her sister, Brenda, held and rocked her side to side.
Two days passed by, no one heard from Zee. It was a cool Sunday morning, Max and Brenda were leaving church. Maxine told Brenda.
“I’m going to go check on Zee.”
“All right baby girl, you call me if you need me.”
“Will do Brenda, and hey girl, thanks for everything.”
“Oh girl you’re welcome, any time, you know you’re my baby girl.”
“Thanks Brenda, tell mama, I’ll be there after I check on Zee.”
“Ok Sis, I will see you soon.”
“Ok Brenda.”
Maxine is calling on the cell phone, while in route to the house, Zee is not answering. Max stopped at a red light, notices Parks coming out of the store. She yells to him, asking if he seen or heard from Zee, He says, “no, I thought she was with you,” Then he asks her if she contacts Zee to inform her that the boss is pissed off and has her listed as AWOL.
“Ok Parks, I’ll do just that.”
“Ok darling, you take care,” Parks replies.
Maxine continues to drive in route to her home. As she pulls in the driveway, she notice that the trash is piled up on the walk way and the grass has not been cut. She immediately gets angry, turns the key in the door, enters, starts to yell.
ZEE, what is going on in here?
There is no response. Max looks over towards the couch, sees Zee lying there passed out.
Zee, get up! Zee?
When Zee doesn’t move, Max walks over to her, kneel down beside her and realizes that Zee isn’t registering a pulse. Max instantly dials 911.
“Hello, I need an ambulance Quick, 5515 Grass Hill Lane, hurry please hurry!”
Maxine begins to call to Zee, pleading with her to get up. She notices that Zee has an empty bottle in one hand, barely hanging on to it.
Maxine takes the bottle, reads and realizes that Zee had taken an overdose of pills.
The medication the doctor had prescribed Max with for pain after her surgery. Max is still pleading with Zee as medical enters. Max informed them of what she had found. They get Zee to the hospital. The doctor orders everyone out of the room and began to pump Zee’s stomached. Brenda arrives at the hospital to comfort Max. They all wait patiently in the waiting area. It’s a dead silence, no one is saying anything, but all eyes are on Max.
The doctor enters the waiting area and asked who was the next to kin, Max stood up,
“I am,” she responded with a faint voice, the doctor said, “you can go in and see her now, but don’t stay to long, she will need a great deal of rest.” “We are going to recommend her to our physchiactriac ward in a few days for observation and treatment.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, but none more than Max.
Maxine entered into the room. Zee lied there lifeless.
Hi, baby.
“Oh, Zee, baby I am so glad you are ok,” Max, said happily.
“No, I am not ok, I need a great deal of help, and I am going to start as soon as I get my strength up.”
“Oh thank God baby, I knew you would pull through this and everything else.”
“I could not have done it with out you Max, I thank God, but I thank him for you.”
Where in the hell is Parks?  They both chuckled as Parks came in the room.
Zee called out to everyone that was there, thanked them all for their love and support, and then said she had an announcement to make. Everyone got quiet, Zee said, “Everyone, Parks held me and cried, told me how much he loved and missed me, and that I didn’t have to pick up his tab ever again.” They all laughed as Maxine kissed Zee.

Teresa Morrison ©2004

True Love

It's a rainy summer night, I laid in bed wide-awake…all sorts of thoughts running through my mind. But one thought in particular, why am I  alone? The lighting lite the dark sky and the thunder rolled across the rooftop. As I gazed out the window through a crack in the curtain, the rain beating down on the window, I listen to the sounds my body made.
My heartbeat was steady; my pulse was of the drummers in a mellow, jazz band. As I inhaled and exhaled my breath was of the sound of a soft trumpet or a quiet flute. My body's rhythm and the melody of the storm blended into a symphony of heavenly music.

Suddenly I wondered no more, why I was alone;

It came to me like waves crashing down on the sea’s shore. God was speaking to me.   It was necessary that I am alone in order to hear his voice, I fell into a deep sleep, yet I lay wide awake. The thunder became a voice questioning me, Teresa do you know me? Do you recognize who I am? My pulse answered with a resounding, NO! As it pounded harder against its drum. Again the thunder questioned, Teresa, Do you want to know me? My heart banged against my chest answering, YES!  My heart rate increased and tears rolled down my face like the rain drops on my windowpane. The rain began to settle, the thunder became dull, and the lighting knew more. My body became calm and my soul was peaceful, the tears dried as I ran my hands across my face, I felt not only my lips but my heart smile. It was amazing, I thought it all to be a wonderful dream, until the phone rang.
Hello!
Teresa?
Yes!
This is your mother, I was worried about you, I’ve been up all night wondering how were feeling. I was just concerned, is everything all right?
Yes Mom, all is well.
I prayed for you last night, I thought you were out in that storm.
Mom, I’ve been here all evening. I never left the house.
I thought you and her went out.
Mom! Come on now, we’ve been over this a hundred times or more, HER! Name is Diamond!
Yeah, well you know how I feel about her, I mean Diamond!
Mom, why don’t you like her? She has never done you any harm.
Yes she has!
Mother, tell the truth and shame the devil! You know good and well Diamond has never
Neither harmed nor wronged you!
Teresa?
Yes Mom.
Remember when she slept with that tramp, Bernice?
Mom, please don’t bring that up?
Baby, I’m just trying to show you that “She,” Diamond has hurt me more than you know or care to admit, for protecting her.
Mom, that’s not it, I just don’t want to bring up the past, Diamond and I have grown beyond that. She loves me and I love her.
No Teresa, I LOVE YOU! GOD LOVES YOU! Now Diamond she has lust for you. 
Well at least you called her by her name, that’s an improvement.
And just what sort of improvement has she made?
Mom I’m not going to have this discussion with you, what is Dad up to?
He is here, lying next to me, sound asleep; which is more than I can say about her!
That’s it mom, I have to go, I’ll be over for dinner Sunday ok?
Sure baby, you bringing her?
Why is it a problem now?
No just asking dear.
Well mom, I’ll let you know by this afternoon, ok?
Sure dear, I hadn’t realized how long we been on the phone.
Neither did I. Mom I have to go, I’ll call you back.
Ok Teresa, I love you.
I love you too mom.
I hadn’t realized that it was late afternoon, and Diamond hadn’t come home.
She had been out all night and through the morning, I called a few mutual friends.
No one had seen or heard from her, then panic set in, was she alive, had she been in an accident out in the storm? Than guilt hit me, “I should have gone with her when she asked me to accompany her to the event”.
My heart stricken with grief and worry, I began to call the local hospitals, the police stations, all of our friends, and her family. I dare not call my mother back. I wasn’t ready to deal with the sarcasm and all the smart remarks, not to mention the constant memory laps of Diamonds name.
The sun is just about to set, I sit in the easy chair, but it doesn’t put me at ease.
The tears began to fall, my heart beat races, my pulse increases, but this time there is no music, no melody, just a loud disturbing noise. It’s a painful echo inside of me, I feel empty.
Suddenly the door opens; Diamond standing there flowers in one hand and an apology in the other.  Instantly the tears go away, anger sets in, I demand an explaination, but instead she hands me the flowers along with her poor excuse. I leave, headed for the bedroom.  As I lay across the bed too angry to cry, she come in and places her arms around me. I jump up, slap her and leave the room in raged.  I grip her coat off the chair without giving it a second thought as to whose coat it was.  I get in the car, reach into the coat pocket for the car keys, and pull out a cell phone, it rings, a woman’s voice speaks, “Diamond honey, is everything ok? I miss you sweetie.  When are you coming home?” I sit motionless, mouth opened, I dropped the phone as the voice continued to speak. Unable to make out what was being said, I started the car drove out of the driveway in route to my mother’s.  Not paying attention, out of nowhere this big truck slams into me, sending my car and me spinning out of control, slamming into a brick wall.

It’s two weeks later; I awake in the hospital to the sound of my mother’s voice.  She is praying, I look to the window and again it’s raining, no thunder, but the music is back.
Mom?
Yes dear, Oh thank God, praise the lord, someone get the doctor, quick! My baby is awake.
Mom?
Yes Baby?
Where am I? What happened?
Just you lay there and rest sweetheart, everything is ok.
A sweet voice, that of an angel began to speak to me, asking me questions.
Mama, how you feeling? Would you like something to drink, water, juice?
No thank you.
All right then if there is anything you need, you just call me.
Sure, not a problem.
As I answered her I look up at her and notice that she gave me a tender wink. As she walked out, she reiterated, anything! And smiled. I was captivated by her.
I looked over at my mother and asked where Diamond is? She replied, Baby I love you.
Again I asked, where Diamond was, mother replied, “she was too ashamed to show her face.” She’s not here honey, I replied, maybe it’s a good thing that she isn’t here.
Maybe you’re right Baby.
Teresa?
Yes mom.
I’ve stayed up all night praying for you, I never left your side, it’s been two weeks, and your father has been bringing me clothes and food from home. But now that you’re awake, I’m going to go home now, just know that you are never alone.
Ok mom, I’ll call you.
Bye baby, just remember that God loves you and so do I.
Ok mom.
Teresa.
Yes?
That doctor is kind of cute and I think she’s sweet on you.
Mom?
Ok baby, I’ll see you soon, ok?
OK, mom.
Mom?
Yes dear?
I love you.
I love you to Teresa.

Teresa Morrison ©2004

To My Daughter…and Mothers of Daughters

More than forty years ago, a blessed beautiful baby was ripped from my womb. It was a vibrant, energetic, healthy baby girl. It was the answer to any new mother's yearning. This baby had the smile of an angel and the peacefulness of melodies of cherubs. I felt so blessed that I had been chosen as the vessel to bring this being into this realm.

Soon the baby talked, walked, laughed freely and had definite opinions about things of this world. What was it that God was showing me in "living color"? This was indeed a carbon copy of myself not only in physical appearance but also in spirit.
My constant prayer was that this child could mature into a happy, empowered person who would be a blessing to everyone with whom she came in contact. She possessed grace, poise, dignity and stamina to make all the accomplishments that were worthy of her. She was the defender of those oppressed; those who needed caring for; and those who felt crushed by the system. Why, she was a carbon copy of ME - not Me - just from ME. My little blessing walked in my shadow but was independent and prone to making decisions. I loved her and admired her stand. She was not geared toward following the status quo or a herd. Good. She was different. She was special.

Friends, acquaintances, asked why she was not dating- (running around). I told them that she had qualities that their children did not have and I meant it…still do. Little did they know that I knew what they were alluding to but I knew something that they did not know. I knew that the desires of my child were different.

Often too much emphasis is placed on who likes whom and what gender is which. I had met many of the people that she was drawn to and secretly laughed because they thought that I DID NOT KNOW. I grieved because I almost said one day twenty years ago, "please tell me, I do understand"

The trauma I have suffered these past forty years in waiting for my daughter to trust me and my feelings and love for her, to tell me. I can empathize with alcoholics and those who choose alternate lifestyles. Admission that you are whatever it is starts your healing- I am not referring to stopping WHO you are but acceptance of WHO you are.

My fears now are the same as hers and many others. The fact is that many of the ignorant world's people are unable to see the person that I described at the outset of this discourse. What changes someone's ability to do a job well? What changes their choices of recreational activities, love of God; rearing of children; living conditions; artistic abilities and the list goes on.

At last!!! She tells me about her preferences. Forty years of waiting. What a relief!!! Not just for her but for me. Two very happy, relieved people. MY DAUGHTER AND ME!! A greater joy was only experienced the day she was born. She is now on her way to being healed. NO, I am NOT saying healed from her internal choice but rather her fears of acceptance of WHO she is. Just as I wished love, empowerment for her when she was not able to make a gender preference choice, I still do. I will not accept any of the labels coined by the ignorant- "Lesbian". "Pervert", "Dyke", "Homo" and perhaps those I have not heard. She is a human, creation of God - my very special one; my confidant; my friend - even though what I say is the LAW!

She is my daughter, beautiful, talented, intelligent and greatly loved by ME!!

How do I feel? I feel euphoric. I feel relief. I feel pride just as I always have. I am grateful to God for allowing me to be the vessel for this unique being who has definite purpose in the scheme of things. No, I am not ashamed of her; no I am not ashamed of her choices.

Those mothers, who feel ashamed, might want to get in touch with WHO they are. Much of the phobia toward others is caused by not knowing self and the fear of who one might come up with.

I cannot stop without giving advice to others. Do NOT wait forty years to tell your Mommy. Take a chance. She too might be anxiously waiting to embrace you and tell you: BE WHO GOD CREATED YOU TO BE …I see you as God sees you - His other creations do not seem to worry about who loves whom - only that; there is love - unconditional- agape.

Suggested book: "Ain't Nobody's Business if I do…" by Peter McWilliams

Naomi (C. Rae’s Mommy) 2003©

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Shonia Brown
Transcends her readers into a world of a deeper lover.

Native Atlantan, new writer, Shonia Brown opens the book cover of her first novel, A Deeper Love. Through her insightful words and melodious tone, Shonia’s writing style has the ability to transcend her readers into the world of her characters as if it were their own, and in many ways it is. Although this book is a work of fiction, its message of discovering a deeper love of self can be felt by anyone and everyone.

Shonia began her writing career at the young age of 10, as she filled several notebook binders with the tales of an all black soap opera, and romance novels. She was an avid fan of daytime television dramas and romantic novels, but always wanted to see more black men and women in these many exciting tales. Never one to let reality get in the way of creating her own world, Shonia developed different stories that reflected her community. There never was a doubt in her mind that she would become a published writer, but it wasn’t until later in life that she realized her novels would not be that of the men and women of her soap operas or romance novels. Her novels would reflect the community that she now realized she was apart of, and knew desperately needed to have their stories told. Just like the absence of black actors in her soap operas and romance novels, she knew that the black lesbian and gay male didn’t always have a true identity in literature. She wanted to be apart of the revolution that would change this, and thus began to create her first black lesbian novel.

In addition to creating various stories about the gay and lesbians of today, Shonia is also a professional technical writer, and entrepreneur. She has always tried to acknowledge the blessings that God has bestowed upon her by sharing these gifts with others. Through her new endeavor as a consultant for small businesses, she wants to help bring together different talents for total success by all involved. In addition to her business developments, Shonia wants to use her novels to motivate and create new readers. As a child, she watched her grandmother read the Bible, with only having a third grade education. As a high school graduate, she worked in a literacy program with adults younger and similar in age to her grandmother who had no reading skills, struggle to overcome this challenge. As an only child she discovered the companionship and the wonderful escapism of books that often helped her to forget that she didn’t always have a playmate. It is through these experiences that Shonia has realized how important it is to encourage the love of reading in others.

A Deeper Love is available at: Amazon.com, Barnes and Noble.com, Booksamillion.com, Borders.com, The Open Book LTD, www.iuniverse.com, tlavideo.com, Giovanni's Room in Philadelphia, PA at 215-923-2960, and Lambda Rising, Inc. in Washington, D.C. at 202-462-6969, or locally at Charis Books and More in Atlanta, Georgia.

A Deeper Love
written by Shonia Brown
© Shonia Brown 2000

Dedication
To the woman who took me into her home and heart when I was six weeks old, and called me granddaughter. Your warmth, encouragement and love will be missed. Your spirit, kindness and faith will live on in this dedication, and more importantly in my heart and the other hearts that you touched while on this Earth.

Chapter 1
Kimberly

Big Liz, the hottest lesbian bar on Friday and Saturday nights, sat on Cheshire Bridge Road, all lit up like Santa’s cottage at the North Pole. It was Christmas Eve, and the owners had gone overboard with the lights and garlands. But no one criticized. It was, after all, a joyous occasion, a time of good will and cheer, right? Wrong. Not everyone at Big Liz was in the Christmas spirit. I, for one, felt like Scrooge. Cheer? Bah, Humbug. Two days before, Val, my girlfriend of two years, had dumped me for a white girl.

“Angel,” she’d said. “I just need a change of pace. A different view, that’s all.” What she really meant was that she needed a different hue. Bitch! So I decided to go to Big Liz, a well-known white girls’ hang out, to see what the big deal was.

The only sisters in the joint were, like my ex, dreaming of a white Christmas. I stood at the bar with a cocktail in hand, and tried to halfway look like I was enjoying the scene. As I watched at the women dancing, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. My hair was still in place. As if it were going to be out of place from its short natural style. I had given up years ago on trying to keep up with every fad and kept it short and sweet. Tre, my barber, had given me his best.

“Girl, this is the Nefertiti. Look at it: it wraps around your head like a crown!” he exclaimed. Tre was right. It was my crown, but I was a queen with no king…and I felt a little self-conscious staring at my reflection in the mirror. Still, I was the best thing to look at there.

White women were not for me. No stringy blonde or black hair. No thin-lipped, blue-eyed Barbie dolls. Their backsides made me long for a hippy, brown-skinned girl. Their flat-chested or silicone-stuffed chests could not compare to the soft, oval mounds of an African woman. No ma’am, it pleased my eyes more to look into the mirror than at the many similar looking white girls jumping up and down on the dance floor. Even though I despised Val right now, I silently thanked her for having encouraged me to stay fit and eat well. Because of the morning jogs, the evening workouts, the veggie burgers and the protein drinks, I had replaced a big, saggy potato sack of a body with the body of a gazelle. I was lithe, curvaceous and toned. My jeans hugged my hips snugly and my black, velvet blouse caressed my full breasts. I knew that I looked good, and from the glances I was getting, so did some of the women --- but not Val.

“Are you alone?”

“Excuse me?” I said, startled by the intrusion.

I had been so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I hadn’t noticed that I was no longer alone at the edge of the bar.

“I said, are you alone?” the little redhead repeated herself.

“Yeah, ” I responded nonchalantly.

As if encouraged, she smiled.

Couldn’t she tell I was being curt? What made her think I was interested in a white girl?

Cause I was in a white bar? I was just there. No big deal.

“I haven’t seen you here before. My name is Kim. Kimberly Chase. I come here a lot, but this is the first time I’ve seen someone as interesting as you. What’s your name? Wait, let me guess.” She studied me.

Kim was a Ms. Chatterbox. I wasn’t going to like this. She looked like all the rest except her hair was the color of a sunset. She wore a tight, red turtleneck over her silicone twins. Her flat booty was covered by a pair of black, wool slacks. Kim wasn’t an ugly girl. She had a pretty smile, but she was definitely not my type.

“Erica? April? Tracy? Monica? I give up. What’s your name?”

“Angela Reynolds. My friends call me Angel,” I reluctantly offered.

“Angel. Angel. That’s a cool name. My friends call me, Kim. So Angel, do you have any plans tonight?”

“No, Kim, not really. Why do you ask?”

“Ooh! I love how you say my name. You sound so sexy,” she chirped.

I gave her a weak smile and silently debated how long I was going to entertain little Kim’s conversation. She wasn’t the brightest, but it beat standing around looking at myself in the mirror, I guess.

“Well, if you don’t have any plans, I know this great party that’s going on downtown at The Loft. Have you heard of it?”

“Yeah, I have. It’s a black hangout. Did you know that?” I warned.

“Oh sure. It’s so cool. A friend of mine is dee-jaying tonight. Why don’t you come with? My friends here are so sheltered. They’re scared to come. I don’t want to be a lonely white girl at The Loft.”

She said the name of the little club on Forsyth Street like it was the shit! It was funny how excited Kim was over a small loft in a warehouse that had been converted into a dance club. Val and I used to go there for parties hosted by a black, lesbian group. The parties were usually flowing with chocolate honeys of all shapes and sizes. So this little, white girl wanted to be down with the sistas. Why not? I was bored with the white scene. The Loft would be like going home.

“All right Kim, I’ll go with you. Did you drive?”

“No, my friends did. I was hoping you had a car,” she answered sweetly.

I sighed. I had not planned on driving Miss Daisy on Christmas Eve.

“I have a car, but will you be hooking up with your dee-jay friend when we get there?”

“Sure, don’t worry, Angel. I can get a ride home. I just need a lift. . .and, of course, company.” she assured me.

“Then let’s get out of here.”

Kim hopped into my Jeep Cherokee and offered to play some riding music. The ride to The Loft seemed long, though it was only fifteen minutes away.

“Cherokee. . .nice!” She said as she popped in her tape of Madonna and began telling me her life story. She was from Ohio. She’d left home at age sixteen and taken off for California. She was there a year, and moved to New York; six months later she moved to Florida.

“I met my husband-to-be in Orlando. He was such a cute, little fuck. Ricardo was his name. Rick for short. Rick had the cutest smile, curly black hair and a butt you could bounce a quarter off. The dude was hot!”

“So what happened to him?”

“One day I came home from work and he was fucking his little sister, Camilla on our futon! They rushed to put on their clothes and he tried to explain, but I didn’t want to hear anything the creep had to say. I put them both out. A couple of months later I get a call from my friend, Casey, the dee-jay. She’d moved to Atlanta from New York and wanted me to visit. So I went. But instead of going back to Orlando, I decided to stay and become her roommate.”

“Did you ever hear from Rick again?” I asked, suddenly intrigued.

“No, but you know what’s funny about the whole thing?”

“No, what?”

“I was more pissed off by the fact that he had fucked her before I could!”

She laughed softly, then lit a cigarette. Kim flipped the tape over and laid her head back as we drove through downtown. As we drove into the parking lot on Forsyth Street, I was beginning to realize that there was more to Kimberly Chase than her fake boobs. Once we parked, Kim hopped out of the jeep and dragged me quickly to the door of the warehouse. The door was open and people lined the stairs leading to the club. Kim squeezed my hand and giggled.

“Isn’t this exciting? Look at all the girls!”

I shook my head and stood quietly, trying to maintain my composure, act indifferent, as we waited to get in. Black women were a different breed. You had to be careful not to show any sign of eagerness. If you looked interested, they were turned off. They liked the chase, the aloofness. So aloof is what I tried to give, but Kim wasn’t having it. She chattered for the thirty minutes it took us to get in. During that time I decided to give into Kim’s whirlwind of chatter. She had a weird way of bringing me out of my depression.

As we squeezed our way to the bar, I watched her tense up. Although Kim was excited to be here, she also knew she was different and that a lot of the women would treat her that way. She was the symbol of a lot of black women’s frustrations, and her presence would not be fully welcomed. I grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. She smiled a little smile of uncertainty. I ordered our drinks at the bar, then moved us to a corner at the edge of the dance floor.

“Nice crowd, huh?” she said weakly.

“Yeah, it’s pretty big. The music is good too. Is that your friend in the booth?”

“Yes, that’s Casey. She’s a great dee-jay. House is her specialty. She’s half Black and half Puerto Rican.”

I smiled. Kim was coming back to her chatty self. I was glad. Strangely enough, she was beginning to grow on me.

“Do you want to dance?” I invited.

“Sure!”

We squeezed our way on to the dance floor. Casey was mixing I Get Lifted with chords of A Deeper Love. The air was steamy with body heat. The scent of soft perfume, spicy cologne and body musk hung over us. Kim started off in a hoppy, jumpy move. She smiled at me and hopped and jumped some more. From the looks on the faces of the women that she was bumping into, I could tell they were not as amused as she was. I gently grabbed her arm and put my other hand around her waist.

“Slow it down, Kim. Let me show you. You want to feel the music. Let it overpower you, not the other way around,” I coached.

She looked into my eyes like an eager student. She watched my body and tried to mimic every move I made. I closed my eyes and allowed the music to take over. Casey was playing a full-length version of A Deeper Love. I knew the words. Hell, I’d lived the words. Fuck Val. Fuck her and her white bitch. I had me. I had pride. I had a deeper love!

When Casey moved into another song, I opened my eyes. Kim was watching me as she moved from side to side.

“You really felt that, huh?”

I felt warm with embarrassment. I had showed this stranger my pain. “Yeah, I did. Let’s get another drink,” I mumbled. Kim followed obediently.

“Angel, I have to go tinkle. Will you stay right here?”

“Sure, Kim. Be careful.”

Kim made her way through the crowd. I watched her disappear into the ladies’ room. There I was again, looking out at the dance floor. A different club, a better view, but still alone. As I stood there watching the dancers, I suddenly felt a warm body press against me. Someone’s breath raised the hairs on my nape. I felt the body press closer into my back, the breasts and hips mold themselves to me, a hand move to my waist and squeeze my stomach. Suddenly, I was very aroused. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was my loneliness. Or maybe it was the smell of the sexy fragrance the anonymous woman was wearing. Maybe it was all of the above.

“Excuse me. I’m sorry.”

I slowly turned around as people pushed past us. She smiled and held up her hands.

“I didn’t mean to just grab you like that, but they were in a hurry.” She continued to apologize, pointing at the couple brushing past us.

“Not a problem.” This woman was definitely not a problem.

She smiled that beautiful smile that was becoming hypnotic to me. I couldn’t help staring at her juicy lips that fit so perfectly with her white teeth. . .not to mention her big brown eyes. From what I could tell in the dark room, her eyes were as compelling as her smile. Her hair draped around her shoulders in beautiful, black braids. Her body was adorned in a hip hugging, short red dress. And those long, smooth legs stood proudly in a pair of black fuck me pumps. My Cleopatra in the flesh!

“My name is Angel. What’s yours?”

“Paula Travis.”

“What a lovely name. Paula, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said as she softly caressed my left hand.

Paula was sending my body on fire-alert. I was in mourning, but damn it she was tempting me to break my vow of celibacy.

“Are you alone, Angel?”

The way she said my name made my knees weak. With a shock, I realized I was behaving like Kim when we first met.

“In a way.”

“In a way? What does that mean?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow. Before I could respond, Kim came rushing back.

“Angel, you’ll never guess what happened in the bathroom!” Paula looked at Kim, then at me. A scowl formed on her face. Kim’s presence was like a cold shower.

“I see. You’re not alone,” Paula said before walking away.

“What? What’s wrong?” Kim asked.

“Kim, stay here. I’ll be right back,” I ordered and then rushed off after Paula.

As she passed the dance floor, I caught her hand. I pulled her on to the dance floor and wrapped her body to mine. Casey had dropped the tempo to a slow groove by Monica. I could feel Paula’s resistance as she avoided eye contact. I turned her head so she would face me.

“Don’t you let a person explain before you convict them?”

“What is there to explain, Angel? You’re not alone. My mistake.”

Paula tried to move away, but I grabbed her hips. My hands gently rested just above her smooth behind as I moved her to the music.

“I came here with Kim as a favor to her. I don’t know her very well. I met her tonight at Big Liz. She wanted to come to this party, but was scared to come alone because of feisty sisters like you who misinterpret.” I said the last part jokingly, but Paula wasn’t going for it.

“So you’re a snow follower,” she retorted.

“A what?”

“What other reason would you be at Big Liz -- if you weren’t looking for a piece of white ass?”

“I don’t want a piece of white ass. I want a piece of your ass.”

Paula looked shocked.

“No, I mean, I want to get to know you. I’m not into white women. I was just there, okay? I was trying to see why my ex-lover left me for a white woman, that’s all. Okay?”

Paula watched at me quietly for what seemed like forever. The music changed to a faster beat, but we continued to dance slowly. Slowly, I began to see signs of a smile on those luscious lips.

“I’m sorry. I just. . .I thought. . .I think you’re very attractive and I was just a bit disappointed when I thought you were with. . .”

“Kim. Kim is her name,” I offered.

“Yes. Well, I was disappointed. So I apologize,” she said with a smile.

“Are you alone?” I asked.

“I’m here with friends. I just moved here from New Mexico four months ago. So my friends, Lisa and Linda, suggested we go out.”

“I’d like to see you again. May I?”

She pulled me off the dance floor, and back to the bar where Kim was waiting patiently. Paula wrote her number on a napkin from the bar and gave it to me.

“Call me.”

To purchase "A Deeper Love" now click on the following link http://www.nghosibooks.com/pages/buybook.htm

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Look Deep Inside of Me...

Deep inside of me I feel so many emotions that I am not exactly sure where to start.  I have found myself mentally attracted to someone and it is constantly altering my thoughts. 

For the first time, I believe we had a conversation that was so REAL that it was frightening.  I feel that I learned so much that I might be afraid of what I don't know as yet, about YOU.  We discussed what we want:  communication, honesty, A FRIEND who you can do and be anything with...   We talked about being concerned for your partner and making sure that they have everything they desire, within reason and that they are stable not only with themselves, but also in our company. 

We also discussed children and what you may think about that subject.  We discussed seeing yourself long term and what you may miss out on and what you may gain, having an instant family.  We discussed spirituality and how it is the most important part of any relationship, the foundation.  A family who prays together... can find a way to stay together... (Normally). 

Reality is scary for me because I am the one with children, I am the one who's life doesn't alter as much (according to all singles), I am the one who understands the hard work it takes (for I do this daily), I am the one who has to watch as you truly stress out for the first time due to something that someone else has done (normally pertaining to the children).  I am the one that if you find yourself tired of things, or you can't do it, or it's just not for you will see you trying to find the words to tell me.  I am the one that after months of you not finding the right way to say it gets frustrated and blames it on something else.  My life is all that I have...  I wanted children... I had them.  I wanted to be married and I did... I tried to make it work, but wasn't getting too much help, many obstacles and not enough life preservers.  We were young... good excuse. 

All I have ever wanted was to be happy with someone.  It used to be the "white picket fence dream" that southern little girls dreamed about:  With the swings on the porch, drinking lemonade with your partner and enjoying life with teeth or without. I had become so blahza about life that almost anything is or was acceptable. Now my life has taken turns and I don't even remember how I came to reside here.   Which is not completely bad at all, for the learning process has been tremendous.  The reason I said to you if you wanted to just be friends and still have the relationship we have now, is because that is almost how it feels.  You have been my friend from day one.  My partner and our friendship means more to me than just and encounter.  So what if we are not meant to be.

I just want you HAPPY. TRULY HAPPY for you deserve it every moment of your life, even if it cannot be me.  I'm not selfish in that arena.  We are friends, a little more, and no one really knows or understands the depth of YOU (meaning the two joined together, trying their darndest to make it work). 

Having been married before, I suppose that I have a tendency to look at relationships more seriously except for in the beginning... 1st year is normally the learning curve. 

Most women rush into things.  Week 1:  We just met had a fabulous time. Week 2:  We have become inseparable.  Week 3:  We are thinking about moving in together.  Week 4:  We are putting together invitations to get married.  Slow down. I NEED TO KNOW YOU! 

I see the roles we choose. Just be YOU. Yet with women its hard because they have a tendency to do everything together, for one another, and forget about a normal dating process for we are NORMAL and our relationships are the same as heterosexual relationships or they should be... good point.

Then, there is the side that when angry, because it's not their responsibility, they find ways to neglect everything else that is or was attached in some way to you out of hurt.  Or ways of just making you hurt by neglecting to continue even a friendly relationship. 

Its funny to me... 

I've been hurt more by women than by men.  My husband was the only man that I ever allowed to hurt me, truly hurt me.  He was the last!!!  This was eleven years ago.  No, men aren't paying for his mistakes... they have in the past, not now.  Nor are women.

It was an experience that brought me here, to this place in my life.  I've dealt with certain demons regarding those people for I do not want to bring baggage into anyone else's life.  It's been hard to trust men, although women have been just as difficult.  The games, the disrespect of other women, the prejudice within our own race as Women baffles me, yet it happens. 

For instance, I came out to the club in slacks, acknowledged her (the focus of my interest) just by saying a polite hello as I have in the past when I have been in her presence.  One week later, I went to a party dressed in a slightly tighter than normal attire. She acknowledged me this time.  Much more attention given, yet I had no respect for it, for my attire provoked a response not what she saw in ME.  She did not see me, even though I've seen her for the past 4 years.  Interested in her spirit, her mind, yet she treated me like a piece of filet mignon. 

I want to join my spirit with someone who uses his or her spirit eyes to see for I need true honesty... I am not involving anyone deeply in my life until I see for myself that we do want the same things... or at least are willing to compromise and meet in the middle.  Give support to one another; so if you are a hater be honest about it.  If I have to do this life on my own, so be it.  I would rather know that this is what I am to do...  My heart is deeper in this than I expected and just the idea of possibly not being able to see things the way I see them now.  I just have to put the brakes on just a little, for I am not sure where I am and what I am to do to ignite in women the true energy and power they have and the beauty that is truly bestowed upon them (and I am not speaking of your vehicle I call body). 

I feel you so deep, each of you; that I hear you in my soul... I hear your cries, your laughter, and your conditioned unhappiness.  I love your spirit, who you are and want to know the journey you have taken to get here, also.  YOUR EXPEDITION not just your body, not just your mind, and not only your heart, but also the true passage of your soul.  I could care less of the package it came in, for we are all human and all humans see that. the body, the package.  Yet we miss out on so much more for you are unfathomable.  I love you. despite what humanity thinks for I do not see woman, I don't see man. I just see you.

Darice  2003©

Moving like a string on a kite

In times of absolute need I find I am something like a string on a kite, turning want into need
But I want to find a love that makes me love with reassurance
Like the train-tracks, as the train finds in time that parallel lines facilitate movement with grace
and runaway kids can hop on to explain or to find a new language where the Shakespeare in their tongue intertwines with the graffiti lines they leave behind
spray painting Hanzel and Gretel to find their way back to the home inside their bird shaped hearts.

I want to find a love that makes me love with the memory of my great-grandmother
Standing in the middle of the street
Looking at my sister and I as we balanced each other on a seesaw while she saw if somebody would try to get into the house.
See, mamita, that’s what we called her, looked inside her pocket to find she didn’t have the keys
and as we begged by her knees to let us out into the sun,
she found in her heart she couldn’t deny two 3 and 4 year olds from the chilling laughter that splits someone like her
so, she became the balancing point of a sew-saw while she saw the silhouette of our bodies and the shadow of the door left slightly open.
I want to love that selfless love, that type of love
      Love for us I understood 
      I understood enough to give back

I want to find a love that makes me love with the tip of my paintbrush on your back
Painting doves to lift you up with their wings
leave you dreaming of star-shaped thoughts that bleed constellations into your walk
and when we dance, we find God hiding behind the hues inside your eyes when the sun hits them
to reveal mountaintops or a satellite view of ridges on the land.

I want to find a love that makes me love with conviction and consequence
Conquered and tide to the bed post
I want to say I love you with candy-covered word play so as to say that tomorrow might come with your face in the lace of my boot
I walk out into the concrete with conviction in my candy-covered mind
Your thighs enough to bring me down into a sigh as I nestle myself between a mattress and a beehive

My life is at times like a string on a kite 

When tomorrow comes I want to know I loved you hard enough, fast enough till word play is not enough and I simply have to show you with the chilling,
stomach hurting,
eyes watering,
I think I might wet myself if I don’t stop laughter
Cause maybe laughter is all we have to explain this love with honesty.

But this fear you talk about has you all bottled up
Tangled like the message in the bottle you wanted to swing into the ocean as a child but didn’t
This fear you talk about saying, “I want to tell you, I love you”, but didn’t
This fear you talk about is as strong as this love I talk about and we only meet half way
so, I guess I want to find a love that moves me like you move me
except they are moving too
or maybe you’ll start moving to this love we say we have but only half pretend and only halfway nourish
I want to find a love that is not afraid to love me back

Take me on

Push me hard up against the wall when I’m not looking to whisper an honest feeling so sharp in their tongue it hurts just to listen
So listen…
Do you hear the concrete splitting?
This isn’t about revolution, or some romantic evolution of words for you to swing on
This isn’t your first love talking or his first kiss
I’m not pretending to know you like the earth knows an eclipse
But Sunday mornings rise in my back pocket and you taste like childhood sometimes

Sometimes I think I could rip your phone number up, reorganize the pieces to reveal a new code that leads me away
from your face
This isn’t a love poem
it’s the truth
It’s a selfish list
Or better yet, a map for me to see that the avenues to my art still hold your name despite my wishes
I can’t bare my fruit without thinking that you are the soil I am reaping
So at time I become the twisted knotted string on a kite turning want into need
but I want you to come
and push me
hard up against the wall when I’m not looking to whisper and honest feeling so sharp in your tongue it hurts just to listen.

Alixia Garcia 2003©

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