breath through all the space that is left. don’t hold one bit inward, only push outward. remember locs are like them ghost spirits that woo and catch the eternal we are. they never leave and only find space to nestle closer. its no wonder that when we see them in pictures, in flesh they capture and shutter souls with the greatest of ease. never a fad, yet a natural phenomenon. locs loving on locs. they be like umbilical cords fused to a depth all their own. on the surface they sing and play and bind together. beneath they sew sweet vibes of melancholy figs. they grow stronger with wisdom. solidarity. dance. swing to rhythms in crowded places. they command all the love. they deserve it.