I feel your words on my lips and feel your mood in my hips
Unearthing fragile or broken parts of one’s past is not denying the nourishment that too existed It is not denying the beauty nor the countless blessings that were also given...
...the prepared meal is far more appetizing that its raw beginnings there’s a lot of fight that goes into the happy ending
I spoke to him in poetry And instead of mocking a tongue he couldn’t understand he took time to learn my language
It is strange to both fit in everywhere and belong nowhere, to never feel completely at home outside of your own skin
I fell asleep with your head on my breast My soul laying gracefully on your stable and loving chest