because i’m a devout believer of healing hands and remember finding unknowing solace, firmly planted on the floor, seated between the legs of my mother as she parted, combed, pinned, oiled, braided my hair for the gods.
because til’ this day, i still call on girlfriends with sinks and hands and love to spare.
because i kneel at faucets in kitchens of black households everywhere…black women are my church.