Untitled


It was around 1:15 and I was sitting on a senescent wooden church pew in front of Melba's on the corner of 114th and Frederick Douglass when this baddddd jawn, with a pair of skinny girl hips, a soft switch, and a kinky unpicked fro sashayed toward me. Denim on denim, with a black hoodie and eyes hidden behind classic black ray bans. Her outfit was plain but her aura was flipping. She made me turn my Badu down as she got closer. A gorgeous smile that set off mine. "I love you." I yelled out to her in the underdeveloped southern accent I seemed to have picked up from having too many late night conversations with my great aunt Lorraine. "Yasss, I love you too!" She hugged me and kissed me on my cheek. One of those French greetings that you see in the movies. It was so personable, I almost forgot I didn't know her. She started talking real righteous-like about being us, and Angela Davis, and I can't even recall what else she said but I'll never forget the last few words, "I love Black women in Harlem." 


Comments