I don’t know what to do about these ethical moral dilemmas. I don’t know how to decide if my anger should be placed deeper on the Black men I share skin with, or the white women I share gender with, or even the white gays I share queerness with. Or anyone in between with oppression commonalities.
“I enjoy men writing about sex that I can eventually upend in my own head by writing from a woman’s perspective.”
“I think it’s important to openly talk about how you’re feeling and what you think is making you feel the way that you are.”
My old is translated and tampered with by the new
107 miles. Sometimes I walk further downtown and the distance increases, sometimes I walk uptown and the distance shrinks. But, that’s only a measurement. It doesn’t matter where I am, there is always a distance between us. Even when I visit you.
Don’t hold my face when you say it./
Don’t look at me as if you’ll crumble if I turn away.
“in trying to heal and bring myself out of a very low place, I looked to Harriet Tubman, her example, and her story”
Things were beginning to feel indefinite.
![[decorative image]](https://i0.wp.com/www.12thstreetonline.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/Image-from-iOS-e1621039180595.jpg?fit=500%2C500&ssl=1)
I’m roaming inside America/
My feet have gotten very cold
These transgressions are the fibers that weave together the quilt of patriarchy.
They warn each other not to breathe me in
Klo is a Brooklyn based street artist who dismembers societal stereotypes surrounding color, gender, and body.
We transition, at last, to the crux. Talk of putting her to sleep; when to make that decision, when quality of life moves on to dignity of death.
“Two please,” I say.
The vendor looks me over and waves his skinny arm towards the colorful ticket display behind the counter, lifting his chin in my direction. The gesture reminds me of my ex—Jairo’s father.
Even a lightbulb signifies positive change. Now, I try to remember the negative. What’s the opposite of a lightbulb going off above my head? Dim? Dim-witted? It means the less light there is—the less whiteness that exists—the worse we’re deemed to be.
Artwork by Ting-En Tsai
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