Beauty makes sense to me, has weight for me, only when it falls from grace. It starts to matter when it carries damage. Sorrow allows it to cast a shadow. It becomes three-dimensional. It enters our world.


Adia. Twentysomething. Mulatta. Pagan. Vegan. Little girl at heart.



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"who taught you
that the
value of a woman
is the ratio
of her waist
to her hips
and the circumference
of her buttocks
and the volume
of her lips?
Your math
is
dangerously wrong
her value
is
nothing less
than
infinite."

‘Greater than’ by Della Hicks-Wilson  (via ceedling)

(Source: dellahickswilson, via rjdizzlemahnizzle)

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