Smell the sweetness
of my whisper
and remember
our native tongue.
We are comfortable
in this passionate
heat as we are
children of the sun.
My fingertips dance circles
at the base
of your neck.
It is a hieroglyphic
I trace.
The strength in your arms
has carried me for over
one thousand years.
It has protected me
from my fears
and reminded me that
the chariot was coming
to carry me home.
Our moans and groans
during love making rituals
create beautiful harmonies
like that of
old negro spirituals.
As individuals,
we work towards this
cohesive balance of
you and
I
wipe your eyes
with Kente cloth when
you cry
and pour for you
water of the Nile
when your throat is
dry.
With closed eyes
I recite for you the
blueprints of the
pyramids
in an attempt
to prompt
your intelligence.
Scratches
passion
placed on your nape
are markings of your
tribe that consists of
me
and represents this
unity;
this family,
the sanctity
that will one day be
fulfilled.
Thank you for
possessing the will
to remind me
that I am royalty
even when my behavior
reads
differently
of me.
Embrace the width
of my lips
for I am
Cleopatra’s daughter.
Delight in the span
of my hips for I have long eaten of
the fruits
of my Father.
And to you, I present
the spoils of the land;
the wisdom of a
God-fearing man
and all that
I
am.
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