When the denizens of the land arrive in the depths of the blue waters, aquatic love takes them into its shelter, they forget the sound of the anklets of the daughters of the land, they sleep with the mermaids, and afterwards, they sigh with regret for the warmth they have lost, they long for weeping, and awaiting a reed flute player, they stare at the far-away surface of the water.
The entire object of true friendship/relationships is to make people not merely do or say the right thing, but to enjoy saying and doing the right things; not merely to like, but to enjoy being admired, and not merely to love, but to love unconditionally and all their flaws.
I looked at her like her eyes were newly discovered planets. I wanted to know all about them. All their oceans, forests, deserts and their satellites. I had become a satellite myself. I was revolving around her with the hope of getting close to her. Like a moth circling around the fire, I was ready to be burned.
Ours was a love story, the kind thatβs not supposed to happen to black girls anymore. This was vintage romance made scarce after Dr. King, along with Negro-owned dress shops, drugstores, and cafeterias.