I speak about the 'memory' of a space, a place that is there even if I don't think about it and where the balancing act of bitches, hoes and the twerking jerking, knee slapping, shuck and jiving, snake hips Willy and Damballah's iridescent tongue flickers with glimpses of time before. Time swaying you in and out of severed labia's, buttocks, breast and carnival sounds...the picture of it, the space, the place is still there right where it happened
Nia Love











