I remember her embrace.
It feels like repent.
Like a confessional stapled to my side.
And a Hail Mary lurks inside every "It'll be ok".
That phrase, cuddles with my inner ear whenever she opens the pearly gates in her mouth.
Every time I look up, I tend to get lost in the galaxies that idle on both sides of her nose.
When she speaks, it's as if a cassette tape is sleeping in her throat, and each conversation jams the repeat button on my favorite sermon.
I remember her voice.
It sounds like the mother land.
Like an African hymn is tattooed to the inside of her throat.
She carries a country in her accent.
And it's heavy.
But I remember how I said I would carry it.
I remember you.
A walking miracle.
And on the 7th day,
God should have created you
because I can't rest until you're mine.
YOU ARE READING
Love Always, Donte.
PoetryThe second installation of my poetry e-books. "Love Always, Donte" has a completely different vibe from my previous work entitled "ThoughtsBefore18". This project is focused and centered around my "love life", if I may give it such a title. This boo...