I remember how you used to love the Clark Sisters. You just knew you were Karen. Hitting all the high notes, always tryna out sing me, out shine me, out Christian me. But when “Jesus is a Love Song” was re-released on Karen’s first solo album, something changed between us. Your copper colored cheeks would get so red. Your voice suddenly cracking under the lustfulness of it all. We were both on the precipice of womanhood in ‘97. Both bursting out our training bras, skin purging hormones that wielded more power over us than Christ himself at the time.
Although we were sworn rivals at Church-when I heard Karen sing about the voice of an angel ministering to her, I saw your face. Your mouth; full of braces, long eyelashes; hidden behind thick red glasses like the ones Sally Jessy Raphael wore all the time. Back then, I could never tell you how you affected me. How, when I kissed my boyfriend, I saw you. When I mustered up the courage to touch myself in the tub at night I thought about y...
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