I am eroticized by your writing. Your words have once again stirred a very tender and potent part of me. I find myself in that fertile space between the not-yet and the must-be; the not-yet spoken or realized, and the must-be spoken and must-be realized. I have not yet fully articulated, asserted, and screamed with conviction, with the force of my womanly being which has been silenced and violenced in countless ways, that which I know and feel to be true. Yet amid the imposed scrutinies and tyrannies of convention, are the poetries and artistries of my unconvention. I hear and feel every inch of the sensuality of your, my, our words, the way in which my body yearns to sway and bend in sync with the gentle and raucous curves of your letters, of your seductive prose; the way in which I lust for transformation of the insipid into the profane. My chest burns and my skin yells for more: “Give me more sensuality, more of the erotic! So that I may know what it means to truly live.”
As I sit and write you, and ardently feel into these passions and desires that have been asphyxiated by the needs and rules of fearful others, I choose to trust this fertile space that your words have opened up. In this space between the not-yet and the must-be is a large expanse of my possibility. At the corners of my mouth, I already feel the saliva growing into eloquent self-expression. In my eyes, I see more than I saw yesterday, a field of vision creatively contorted by my own hands and limbs. Upon my ears, I hear the astute resonances of a lineage of female decolonizers, like yourself, weaving their way into the skein of my thoughts, urging me to take flight.
So, I illumine. With my being, I distill, birth and realize the lucid and sacred parts of me.
With deep gratitude and respect,
Aidyn Lorraine Mills