So he asks me why I care about equality.
I’ll tell you:
Equality calls to me like an old friend, wind carries her voice past the lighthouse, over the foghorn’s moan, through the darkness.
Equality wants to be here with me, holding my hand, kissing my palms.
She wants my emancipation; she wants me to feel ecstasy, she wants my river to overflow, sending all the villagers with no eyes, no colour, downstream never to return.
Equality wants to braid my hair and warm my neck, letting me spill the tears from my mouth from so long ago.
She wants to know why I won’t cry.
Equality wants to hear the things I refuse to say; the things no one knows are scratching at my throat; clawing, scraping to get out. They dig and they dig, but no daylight do they see.
Equality.
I need her and she needs me.
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