Channeling Affections: Whitney, Modigliani, and Me
I sang her songs each night into my bathroom mirror, slicking back my hair in imitation of her first record cover, heart longing and prepubescent voice straining to emulate this beautiful, powerful woman.
I mumbled under my breath/
I trust you with my life as I walked to 25th street station.
Lost and Found in the Texas Hill Country
I was frustrated, tired and hungry, and noting all this, I thought to myself in a rare moment of optimism, “Maybe there’s a reason we’re lost and late. Maybe something good will come of it.”
On needing to belong – to a community, and to a family.
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