I’m so jealous.
As I often am. It’s a kind of obsession.
I want her to be my child’s mother.
I want to have marriage with a woman with personalities like hers.
I can’t stop
wishing my daughter had had a mother like her.
I can’t stop wishing I’d had life with her. Oh, I know
it’s a miracle to have a life. Any life at all.
It took eight years for my parents to conceive me.
My mother’s bones were so narrow, she had to be slit
and I airlifted. That anyone is born,
each precarious success from sperm and egg
to zygote, embryo, infant, is a wonder.
And here I am, alive.
Almost twenty seven years and nothing has killed me.
Not even a car that rolled with us.
Not even rotten chest eating my inner.
Not the tree that fell in the forest exactly
where I was standing—my best friend shoving me
backward so I fell on my ass as it crashed.
I’m alive.
And I gave birth to a child.
"Kimberly Jones". A child of my fate.
So you got a father who’d sling you
onto his shoulder. And never leave when problems knock.
I saw your innocence when Dorcas left us. I’ve cried most of my life over that.
And now there’s everything that we can’t talk about.
We are here. Alive.
You remember your aunty Maurine?
we were on our way West,
shopping for dresses. That’s something
she likes and they all look adorable on her— when she finally confesses she doesn't love me anymore.
You asked about her. I lied.
But we still here, alive.
I loved her for that sincerity.
That’s what I needed to know.
Catherine wants to have sex with me.
I'm confused of my emotions. Can i do it? Or can i come home take you to a museum and watch zebra's together?
Esther keeps texting, She wants to be your Step-Mother.
Women after flesh yawn for our moments !
I love you Kimberly!
As i finish the first page of this book, underlining,
highlighting, writing in the margins, i want you to know_ I'm here waiting for you to smile.