fucking tourist series by jolipunk


Afropunk Hair Portraits by Artist Awol Erizku for Vogue USA 

Read each story here:http://vogue.cm/XSNWEq


Hilary Faye

Woman, you belong to the night.
You have blood on your thighs
and furze in your hair.
You smell of loamy fertile soil.
Your breasts give life,
Your sex is a mystery school
leading to the holy of holies.

Turn your eyes inward.
Use owls’ vision to see where you come from.
Slip beneath the surface,
and feel yourself become full.

Make a marriage to the moon.

Divorce the false gods of intellect and reason.
Find meaning in your dreams.
And in the secrets of your body.

Follow no authority -
But your own true nature.

Make a sacred fire.
And throw on it all that you would use to harm yourself.
Make kindling from shame.

Let your dance be wild.
Your voice be honest.
And your heart untamed.

Be cyclical.
Don’t make sense.

Initiate yourself.
Initiate yourself.

—Aisha Wolfe (via sublimesea)


Ojo de dios / 🍍 in the making / @exercisingcement (at Room 415)



©Nadine Ijewere

Dear Future Wife,

I’m sorry in advanced for not giving it up on the honeymoon. Fair warning that the sheets will be wet with my tears and nothing else on that night. I’ll want to melt into you. I’ll cry and tell you over and over and over how I can’t believe that this is happening. Just bear with me, please. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and do it again. In the morning my eyes will be swollen from last night’s tears. I’ll be the ugliest and happiest that I’ve ever been. I’ll want to kiss you, a lot. I’ll make you want to kiss me, too.

For the next 3 days I’ll want to stay in bed.


Things are hard right now. But they won’t always be.


I will remind you of my love as often as I blink my eyes.

I’ll still wake up before you and watch you sleep, you’ll still groan and roll over when you wake up to find me staring at you. I’ll still count your freckles when you’re not looking. Somehow I’ll never get an accurate number. I’ll remind you how beautiful you are in the midst all the good and bad haircuts. I won’t always understand you, but I will always try to. I will always listen. One day you’ll tell me you’re tired of my breakfast and I’ll go on a hiatus for a week. I’ll do the dishes, sometimes. Sometimes I will wash 2 forks and 2 plates on an as needed basis. We’ll alternate between my acoustics and your boom-baps. I will still whine to get my way. You’ll suck your teeth at me for picking up the tab at the restaurant and I’ll poke your dimple and tell you to get over yourself. I’ll still stay awake until you’re home safe, even if means I go to work on an hour of sleep. I’ll still yell at you for not calling to let me know that you’re okay, but snuggle up against you anyway. Somedays I’ll be lazy. And somedays I’ll be restless. Somedays I’ll question my very existence on this earth; all you need to do is tip my head up and look into my eyes to remind me why I’m here. I will cry often. And you won’t always know why. I won’t always want to tell you. As your fingers reach out for mine, I’ll remind you of the time that you told me that hand-holding doesn’t last past the 9th month. And you’ll laugh and say, “you’re right.” And I’ll respond with the all-too-cliche “as always,” even though we both know that I’m usually wrong. I’ll bring you flowers every day. I’ll bust into the bathroom while you’re on the toilet and talk your head off just to make you uncomfortable. I will still get shy. I will still blush when you compliment me. I will always compliment you. We’ll lie in our backyard, naked, because we can. Finally. I’ll still get butterflies every time we make eye contact. You’ll disappear into your studio for maybe days at a time, and I’ll bother you with questions that I already know the answers to, just to be in your space for a little while. I will always be jealous if I’m not the first to critique your work. Our kitten will like you more than me and I’ll be jealous. But I’ll live for the moments when you lose yourself playing with her and you giggle like a little girl. You’ll finally notice me standing in the doorway watching you and I’ll laugh and tell you you’re a big ass kid. You’ll agree. I will always call you cute. Some days you will miss her and I will let you. We’ll watch old Family Guy on Saturday mornings and I’ll put my hand in your pants. We’ll finally get out of bed at sunset and eat Oreos and popcorn and promise each other that we’ll pick up some grapes and oranges on our next grocery trip. I’ll constantly take photographs of you and sometimes you’ll be annoyed. I’ll say you look like a thumb. I will always be amused by this. Some days I’ll need you to tell me about God. When I breakdown and tell you not to touch me, I need you to touch me most. I know you will need the same, although you will never say it aloud. I’ll still try to talk you into forever. I’ll tickle you until you beg me to stop and leave your claw marks in my arms. I will sometimes stand over your shoulder while you’re working until you swat me away. We’ll lie on the floor because the laundry’s piled up on the bed and wonder what we ever even worried about. I will complain about my job, I will want to quit. I will need you to talk me to talk me out of it. I will need you to talk me into going when I want to call in sick and spend the day with you. I will call in sick and spend the day with you as often as my job allows me to. Some days you will still feel numb and I’ll remind you how to feel again. I will rub your feet and kiss your toes. I will make you french toast at 1am just because you asked. I will spoon you and nag you and kiss you. I will read to our sunspot while she’s in your belly. I will talk to her every night. I will tell her how wonderful you are. Later, when she’s older I will play your CD and she’ll be embarrassed of how cool her mom was back in the G. Some days you’ll want to give up. Some days I’ll want to give up. We’ll find beauty in the struggle, just as we do now. You’ll say you love me in a thousand different tones, and I’ll thank the stars a thousand different times for blessing me with you.

I will still miss you all the time. I will write to you. I will annoy you. I will scare you. I will hug you. I will despise you. I will trust you. I will thank you. I will remind you. I will tell you: I will love you, I will love you, I will love you.


Things are hard right now, but they won’t always be.


Love, always,