She carried me, bones and flesh, as best she could with no one left to hold her. She did her best to create the we from the tattered, broken I-ndividualism.
White people can empathize with this terrifying reality. But we cannot be inside the lived reality that forms for a Black man when the police approach.
The gateway to this 'togetherness' is formed of the bravery it takes to clearly, unambiguously hunger for someone as Durito hungered for the ballerina.
Together, 'we' must liberate this 'apocalyptic passion' within ourselves and from the deadly stupor brought on by our own addiction to the give-up cocktail.