You Gotta Imagine What's Never

It Was The Oldest Sound There Was. Souls Flying Away.

In The Photograph By My Bed My Mother Is Perpetually Smiling On Me. I Guess I Have Forgiven Us Both, Although Sometimes In The Night My Dreams Will Take Me Back To The Sadness, And I Have To Wake Up And Forgive Us Again.

I Felt A Trembling Along My Skin, A Treaveling Current That Moved Up My Spine, Down My Arms, Pulsing Out From My Fingertips. I Was Practically Radiating. The Body Knows Things A Long Time Before The Mind Catches Up To Them. I Was Wondering What My Body Knew That I Didn't.

I Said, "if I Was A Negro Girl-" He Placed His Fingers Across My Lips So I Tasted His Saltiness. "we Can't Think Of Changing Our Skin," He Said. "change The World-that's How We Gotta Think."

You've Got To Figure Out Which End Of The Needle You're Gon' Be, The One That's Fastened To The Thread Or The End That Pierces The Cloth.