I am a woman of no language. I was fed the words my mother ate. And then I was told these sentences were not adequate. I was taught to speak other than my mother’s tongue. That my mother’s words only matter to use when I was young. Through the course of four chapters, First Drop of Red speaks about history and identity, existence and survival, love and lust, as well as faith and doubts. It …
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends...
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways: I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach, when feeling out of sight, for the ends of being and ideal grace