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PROLOGUE AUDRE LORDE Haunted by poems beginning with I Seek out those whom I love who are deaf to whatever does not destroy or curse the old ways that did not serve us while history falters and our poets are dying choked into silence by icy distinctions their death rattles are blind curses and I hear even my own voice becoming pale strident whispers At night sleep locks me into an echoless coffin sometimes at noon I dream there is nothing to fear; now standing up in the light of my father sun without shadow I speak without concern for the accusations that I am too much or too little woman that I am too black or too white or too much myself and through my lips come the voices of the ghosts of our ancestors living and moving among us Hear my heart's voice as it darkens pulling the old rhythms out of earth that will receive this piece of me and a piece of each one of you when our part in history quickens again and is over: Hear the old ways are going away and coming back pretending change 31
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Reopened for Editing 2024-02-16 09:56:40