I am very, very sad.

Andrea Dworkin dies.


And very, very sorry.



Andrea

Smoking and talking
Running and cursing
Lifting and lounging

It’s all mine.

My right
My space
My world

Never kept from me
Never restrained
Never bound
Never watched
Never used

The weight of her death
The loss of her brilliance
Her fury, her perfect madness
The mind that forced forward, never back
Un-giving
Un-compromising
Un-apologizing
Fuck you.

I loved her. I loved her as my mother. As my protector.
Me, as an embarrassed child.

I’m sorry, Andrea. I’m sorry.

--For my friends that haven't met her words.