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Image for post
Photo by Rod Long on Unsplash

My loved ones have grown tired
with curved spines
and hair colored grey
They sit inside themselves
I see their bodies
are their homes
I feel that we are a unit
of blood and experience
Genetics sprawled out on the highway
Breathing
familiar breaths

As a little girl
I wondered if I was born
breathing in time
heart beating
in time
with my mother’s
Did we have the same heart?
Laying together at night
I breathed with her
hoping to get back on track
with our one
shared breath

We share more
than a beating heart
We are pulsing
with ancestral pick-up lines
Portraying each other
like a projector in a room full of mirrors
In a house full of rooms
full of mirrors
A sagging wooden house
So This is the Place
Growing tired
in the heat of the sun

In a partnership with the English language; on a mission to dispel myths, bridge gaps, and draw boundaries.

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