…and the heart that understands cuts like rust in the bone. || too many opinions for one little galaxy.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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it’s a cool evening and I’m lingering in delirium (read: tired as hell.) fresh out the shower, but I’m still going to throw on my emerald robe and sit on the patio for a smoke.
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girls just want baskets to collect herbs and veggies from their garden.
*looks at patio garden*
chile, we have work to do.

i'll open myself up to you, in every way
source
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poem, “there’s laundry to do and a genocide to stop,” by vinay krishnan (x). transcription in alt text
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visit your local library. Mychal the Librarian is right! LEAVE THEM ALONE!
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aaaah, my old friend! it’s good to be back. I have a lot to say and even more to feel. be nice to me! my hope is that this space has the feel of a 1920s French salon with black people. we’re opinionated and free. most are welcome. see you soon! ✨
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