South Africa 2 Ethiopia

Tracing my index finger from South Africa to Ethiopia,
I hadn’t realized the inches between my fingertips would turn into miles,
Started carving initials upon every rock,
Ocean waves turned over memories,
Footsteps caused tremors felt out of craniums of homeless,
Kids holding crayons between red sand,
We arrived in high spirits,
Left in a hurry,
Nights superglue-ing newspapers to everyone’s sliding doors,

When he or she woke,
It was heard from miles,
French-speaking South African colored Nigerians,
‘I’m gonna’ kill whoever did this’,
Safety measure,
We had to do it to ourselves so we wouldn’t be caught,

Who knew us leaving the gate open was our sign,
Stars connected by arm length,
Passing by the same homeless woman on the beach,
Rolled a bowling bowl,
Carved lanes in the sand,
Drank a bottle of Mossi,
Every step we took from South Africa to Ethiopia,
Gathered sand and dust between toes,

Individual maps disguised as hole in the wall cafes,
It was the bottle who became my friend,
Lost half way into my journey,
My dear friend passed away,
Buried Her without a label,
Wrote a love poem and sent her into the night upon unbalanced waters,
Without realizing I left my guiding star in the bottom of the bottle,

My arms pranced along surfaces as my feet tap danced upon water,
Fisherman along the coast wrote poems,
My toes thanked them by writing letters upon fish scales,

Last memory I hold,
It was of me laying on a far away cast away beach,
Children screaming lungs out of chests,
Feet causing thunder to strike my ear,
Hands rubbing my skin,
Asking if the color will show itself,
Hair being felt for the first time,
Not rough but silk through children’s fingers,

Little girl asked, ‘Ma isk Mook’?
I answered, ‘I don’t remember’…

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