Sing, Unburied, Sing

by Jesmyn Ward

getting grown means learning how to work that current: learning when to hold fast, when to drop anchor, when to let it sweep you up. And it could be something simple as sex, or it could be something as complicated as falling in love, or it could be like going to jail with your brother, thinking you going to protect him.”

Sometimes the world don’t give you what you need, no matter how hard you look. Sometimes it withholds.

“Let me leave with something of myself. Please.” I nod, and then her scalp is under my hands, hot to the touch, and I’m kneading and scratching like she did me, and her mouth is opening and closing in half pleasure, half pain. Opening and closing with what would be sobs, but she chokes them quiet.