I forgot how lucky we are. No order. White Black men. He needs you to trust her. A Black woman. He's the only one who gets to self regenerate. I hate her. Lunch menu. We have a tendency to follow our mothers around. Wait. What the fuck? Who ordered him? Hired Ms. Pring. Pussy.
I write a combination of prose and song that narrate preserving cultural dialect and heritage between him and her.
Thursday, March 5, 2026
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