#10132014

Was it not my mother and her mother (and her mother’s mother and her mother…) who birthed the night, pushing a millennium of stars through their inner thighs to breathe life into me? Was it not my father and my brothers who carry the moon on their backs and rally the tides that cleanse the wombs of my sisters and I? Is it not I—daughter, sister, lover, woman, beauty, intellect—that commanded the Sun to bow down and make way for my midnight blanket of skin?