The Spring of Her Look
If you are from a country, if you’re born there, a natal native
as they say: well then, you have it in your eyes, your skin, your
hands, with the flowing hair of the trees, the flesh of its earth,
the bones of its rocks, the blood of its rivers, its skin, its taste,
its men and women: it is a presence in your heart, indelible,
like a girl you love, you know the spring of her look, the fruit
of her mouth, the hills of her breasts, her hands which
protect then give in, her knees without mysteries, her
strength and weakness, her voice and silence.
—Jacques Roumain, Gouverneurs de la rosée
I want to show homosexuality or lesbianism or gayness,
whatever you want to call it, as a whole identity, not just
a sexual preference. . . . What would it mean for a woman
to love another woman in the Caribbean?
—Michelle Cliff in Judith Raiskin, “The Art of History”
Grace. Is grace, yes. And I take it quiet, quiet,
like thiefing sugar.
—Dionne Brand, In Another Place, Not Here
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