A man without self control is like a king without authority

I shook my tambourine the whole time, because it helped me remember that even though I was going through different neighborhoods, I was still me.

If you can call it talking, these clipped whispers, projected through the funnels of our white wings. It’s more like a telegram, a verbal semaphore. Amputated speech.

There&#39;s one more thing I want to say. It&#39;s a touchy subject. Black beauty. Black sensuality. We live in a culture where the beauty of black people isn&#39;t always as celebrated as other types. I&#39;d like to help change that if I can!

Written By Jody Watley

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