“See, baby, cooking is like making art. Anybody can follow a recipe, but not everyone can put the heart and soul needed into a dish. You get me?” Marina said as she pulled the chocolate souffles out of the oven. “And now, you know all my chocolate souffle secrets.”
At the Last Black Unicorn, no one is too much to too little; everyone is enough. Period.
I’ve had golden wings that glittered, making me a jewel of the sky as I glided through the air. Swam in pink and purple oceans on a nameless planet. Traversed the cosmos to witness the birth of a star. And yet none of that compares to the ecstasy I feel being loved by a Black woman.
