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. life, nostalgia, and other affairs of the heart).
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Muses & Musings
Welcome to my new series, a weekly blog on what’s inspiring me. I spent much of last week in bed with a stomach bug. I’ll spare you the details of that—but in addition to the grotesque physical symptoms, I had some fever dreams I won’t soon forget. Imagine my surprise to see Vocal’s newest challenge: Write a fiction story about a recurring dream or nightmare.
By Davina Zinn McKee7 days ago in Journal
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!