after listening to "clarity" by john mayer, this is what popped up in my head...
little gurls don't do this/that
little gurls love their daddies, they don't want anything more than a forehead kiss @ nite and a big daddy hug...squeezed just right. little gurls don't inch into grown folks' buisness, with "mama you said this, remember?" because mama don't play that shit.
I've watched little gurl stay stuck in her shell, scared of leaving, and I've blown the dust from between my fingers; digging in dirt trying to retrieve my roots; little gurls don't hate their mothers... They prance around with her heels on, getting first dibs on vanity. They smack their lips, suck their teeth, and remain little gurls, even in the cloudiest of environments.
I've tugged onto little gurl, afraid to let her go, because grown women don't need direction. Grown women can't fall into their fathers' laps and dream about days before divorces and second wives. And I find myself wanting to be a little gurl again, sucking in the airyness that was my life. Blending in with the shadiest of crowds... Pulling my past back into me... I am not a little gurl anymore
or am I?
ŠTremaine L. Loadholt
=================== I was never because I never myself how to swim in holy water. ŠAeon
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