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I asked my cousin what she thought of my girlfriend's photograph. "Your friend seems wonderful," she replies. I reiterate that she is my girlfriend, my lover, mí amour. I can hear her smile over the telephone, "Yes habibti [sweetheart], I know." Not kool kieth only am I tired of reading between the lines, but I refuse to help create them. kool kieth I asked my mother what she thought of my girlfriend's photograph. She hoped we wouldn't have children. "God will punish you habibti." She was grateful to have me in her life now because, as she put it, kool kieth I wouldn't "make it in" to heaven with her. I told her I am in heaven; I'm in love. She ignored that. My sexuality. Why is it so hard to write about? But I do write about it, speak about it, create art about it, announce it to the world everyday.
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