Love Always, Donte.

Embrace

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.