For the Girl Next To My Soul
i am making love in this poem.
my hands worshiping her feet like a god.
her smile is where i want to sit & grow old in her belly.
maybe, i should tell her a story.
of how the ocean tides rise & fall for
our sake.
that her kisses are enzymes that continue to speed up reactions in our bodies.
i love this girl like the holy spirit.
whenever she descends into my body,
i become a witness/telling people about her everywhere.
she hails from the foundation of africa.
i have seen the grain coast on her skin.
that means: i am in love with a liberian girl.
i love this girl according to the words coming out of my tongue,
& the meditation that crawls in my heart.
for this girl,
i have found africa.
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