The Daphne

Extra extra. She turning out the south yall one mole hill hamlet juke joint and road house at a time. The patient purr humming in the heart of a magical black woman has never entertained A Southern Belles Lost cause knowing that she is the rainbow that sings her body electric remaking the scene an adventure. just doing the darn thing and the bars are no longer an S and M(stand model) southern hide and go seek shell game of masks dissembling the real faces in farcical facade and skirting in chantilly lace. its the inchoate reclamation of agency in flapper feminism. its the sounds of the muse in the hues of jazz bebop and blues. this phenix in riot in the constellations. stars normally arrayed in the heavens night to adorn city New York are wrapped around the shoulders of Harlem tight like the onyx back of light in a bottomless well that is woven into a bespoke obsidian cape it does drape the woman powered blackness the dark side of our moon be she Nzinga Fulani Anza Hatian she hold up every nation formed before God made the Earths foundations.

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