Art is not living. It is the use of living.

Wherever the bird with no feet flew, she found trees with no limbs.

Attend me, hold me in your muscular flowering arms, protect me from throwing any part of myself away.

How a diamond comes into a knot of flame How a sound comes into a word, coloured By who pays what for speaking. Some words are open. Love is a word another kind of open — As a diamond comes into a knot of flame I am black because I come from the earth's inside. Take my word for jewel in your open light.

I cannot shut you out the way I shut the others out, so maybe I can destroy you. Must destroy you?

I am a Black Lesbian Feminist Warrior Poet Mother, stronger for all my identities, and I am indivisible.

...my experience with people who tried to label me was that they usually did it to either dismiss me or use me.