It was a total eclipse of the heart the way we met that night during karaoke
when you spilled vodka next to me while you were trying to flirt lowkey.
Crooned words a wasp's buzz in my ear, "Pretty for a black girl, ain't you?"
Disgust like cigarette butts burned my throat and I didn't know what to do,
just listening to a warbling Whitney-wannabe and my hair singing in 4C
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. nostalgia and other affairs of the heart).
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Comments (2)
Hi, just met you through Donna Renee's work. Love your work, Really beautiful.
My hair sings about a 4B on a good day. But by the time you get to the kitchen it's a high 4C all day long. LOL. Your title, picture and words are all on point!