A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance

by Hanif Abdurraqib

It occurs to me now that this was the real joy of dancing: to enter a world unlike the one you find yourself burdened with, and move your body toward nothing but a prayer that time might slow down.

am in love with the idea of partnering as a means of survival, or a brief thrill, or a chance to conquer a moment.

It dawns on me now that the funeral—particularly the Black funeral—is a way to celebrate what a person’s life meant and to do it as if they’re still here. To offer gratitude for the fullness of whatever years someone chose to have their life intersect with your own.

My loves, I want to know if heaven is real only if you are promised to be in it. I do not fear death as much as I fear the uncertain dark. An eternity that doesn’t include a chance for me to make amends for all of the things that kept me from holding you close while you were breathing and telling you how much I didn’t understand about love. I know now that I have always loved you and now you are gone. I am trying to love better in your memory.