that time u wore enyce kinda changed my life

this may come 2 late 2 b meaningful, but, i used 2 sneak thru ur drawers n read all ur letters. i just wanna confess that 1st. finding those letters 2 ur bffs n hi school boyfriends was 1 of the hi lites of sharing a room with u. ur shorthand was expert level, u made an art out of the minimum. rite away, i envied the wild language. how it made me love words more, made me love u more. in my admiration of u, i promised myself 2 1 day write with the same reckless abandon. so in honor of u, my sister, i write this n shorthand just like ur letters i had no bizness reading.

i was a grammar queen even back then n when i saw ur use of numbers n place of words, i raged. my adolescent arrogance had me fuming but it wasn’t enough 2 pull me away. ur bubble letters, ur penciled calligraphy fascinated me. even the smell of the mead notebook paper was intoxicating. i consumed all ur secrets, at least the ones u were brave enough 2 spell out. i frantically tried 2 burn the sentences n2 my memory b4 they dissipated. put them n hidden crevices, as a way of having something 4 myself n a crowded home. i wanted 2 have them all, just n case. remembering ur secrets was my secret. keeping them was my duty. i tucked away ur 1st luv, ur crushes, ur hi skool drama n refolded the note, following the creases like performing sacred origami. there were other perks of sharing a room with u 2. my favorite was trying on ur clothes when u were gone. tho u were 6 yrs older, my hips had already surpassed urs as they waited 4 the rest of my body 2 catch up. so when i slipped n2 ur gold enyce pants stamped with tiny black ‘e’s’ over them, i felt like a woman. i felt 2 grown 4 the top bunk. top bunks were 4 little girls n i wasn’t. i was ready 2 fight u 4 the bottom bunk, the place where grown up girls slept. i was trapped n jr hi but i was ready 4 real action. riding around bypassing speed limits, newport 100s in a box, lavish name brand pants.

so when u finally wore those gold enyce pants, it kinda changed my life. u wore them better than n-e-body else n the 90s. plus u wld switch up brands n rock karl kani or fubu. u was da bomb. hell, u invented da bomb in my eyes. plus, only u cld make me forget r. kelly’s wrongdoings when, yrs later, u bumped chocolate factory in your white kia. i was 2 naive 2 understand i was ripe 4 his predatory picking. i didn’t learn the meaning of ephebophilia 4 many yrs 2 come. music videos had already taught me that sex sells. still, i was only beginning 2 understand just how profitable the blk female form was. at the time, it only mattered that his music mattered 2 u, so, by sisterlaw, it had 2 matter 2 me. the world was ready 2 consume my body, turn a profit 4rm it. its blackness, its tiddies, its wholeness. tho u were only 5 feet nothing, u kept the wolves at bay. i was 14 n something abt ur words were biblical. u were 1 of the heroes of my world, 1 of the of 8, orbiting like planets in my own personal solar system.

twenty2 years is a morsel of time. i stare down my 30th with these 2 understandings: the world is mine n i kno nothing. u stared down ur 23rd with 2 understandings: the world was urs n u knew everything. maybe it was the sheer arrogance of youth that made u turn 2 soon. a speeding truck, a drunken driver was no match 4 ur youthful invincibility. they didn’t tell us when we were yung how fragile life cld b. they told...