I am writing these words as a route map
an artifact for survival...
History is not kind to us
we restitch it with living
past memory forward
into desire
into the panic articulation
of want without having
or even the promise of getting.
And I dream of our coming together
encircled driven
not only by love
but by lust for a working tomorrow
the flights of this journey
mapless uncertain
and necessary as water.
-Audre Lorde
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1 comment:
hmmm. blogger messed up the spaces that happen within the lines of this poem. Lorde forgive me :(
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