But the true feminist deals out of a lesbian consciousness whether or not she ever sleeps with women.
Woman-identification is a source of energy, a potential springhead of female power, violently curtailed and wasted under the institution of heterosexuality. The denial of reality and visibility to women__ passion for women, women__ choice of women as allies, life companions, and community; the forcing of such relationships into dissimulation and their disintegration under intense pressure, have meant an incalculable loss to the power of all women to change the social relations of the sexes to liberate ourselves and each other. The lie of compulsory female heterosexuality today admits not just feminist scholarship, but every profession, every reference work, every curriculum, every organizing attempt, every relationship or conversation over which it hovers. It creates, specifically, a profound falseness, hypocrisy, and hysteria in the heterosexual dialogue, for every heterosexual relationship is lived in the queasy strobe-light of that lie. However we choose to identify ourselves, however we find ourselves labeled, it flickers across and distorts our lives.
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Woman-identification is a source of energy, a potential springhead of female power, violently curtailed and wasted under the institution of heterosexuality. The denial of reality and visibility to women__ passion for women, women__ choice of women as allies, life companions, and community; the forcing of such relationships into dissimulation and their disintegration under intense pressure, have meant an incalculable loss to the power of all women to change the social relations of the sexes to liberate ourselves and each other. The lie of compulsory female heterosexuality today admits not just feminist scholarship, but every profession, every reference work, every curriculum, every organizing attempt, every relationship or conversation over which it hovers. It creates, specifically, a profound falseness, hypocrisy, and hysteria in the heterosexual dialogue, for every heterosexual relationship is lived in the queasy strobe-light of that lie. However we choose to identify ourselves, however we find ourselves labeled, it flickers across and distorts our lives.
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AVAGod you are a delightyou have delivered what I likeheaven delivers a gift with lipsheaven delivers a gift with hipsGod you delivered what I likeoh God you are in the spotlight
ZOEgiven some liberty from heaven Godyoung and a rebelIs this why you chose meup against it allI wonder what's in storefor this rebel you say I reveal?but I don't think I have that rebel appealbut I am radical in a heavenlysort of wayand all the other angels do look up to mebut only every other dayand you still love me Godwith delightyou often sayyou once said"when you growthen you will knowas the rebel in you will show"this rebel you say I will revealI don't think I have that rebel appealbut I am radical in a moral religious purity waybut all the other angels did saythat I really should read that Biblebefore I praymy morals do seem to swaysent to this world of giveawaythis world of moral decayget these sinners back on sidefixated on my holy ridethis rebel you say I revealI don't think I have that rebel appealI know this rebel you want to seebut this rebel I don't think it is in merevolutionistrevolutionaryrebelliousrebelliouslyrebelI don't think I ambut I do like to sell God's plan
When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.
There is only one thing to do when you meet the Living God; you must fall on your face and repent of your sins. Repentance is bittersweet business; Repentance is not just a conversion exercise -- it is the posture of the Christian, much like 'tree' or 'full lotus' is the posture of the Yogi. Repentance is our daily fruit, our hourly washing, our minute by minute wake-up call; our reminder of God's creation, Jesus' blood, and the Holy Spirit's comfort. Repentance is the only no shame solution to a renewed Christian conscience, because it only proves the obvious: God was right all along.
No one has imagined us. We want to live like trees,sycamores blazing through the sulfuric air,dappled with scars, still exuberantly budding,our animal passion rooted in the city.