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“I don’t want to make somebody else. I want to make myself.”
She had been looking all along for a friend, and it took her a while to discover that a lover was not a comrade and could never be—for a woman.
The narrower their lives, the wider their hips.
“You say I’m a woman and colored. Ain’t that the same as being a man?”
“All that time, all that time, I thought I was missing Jude.” And the loss pressed down on her chest and came up into her throat. “We was girls together,” she said as though explaining something.
