Love Poems: For Akuvi

my mother
my sweet, warm mother.
her dark skin glows with years of wisdom and sorrow

my sweet, foreign mother
Monrovia’s girl
my strong mother
thick bodied but gentle
long fingers crooked and softly withered by labor and time
i want to weep while i lay in her lap

we will not always have these moments
she will return to God
she has never belonged to me
but i have always been hers

she has taught me to work until my fingers bleed
to work through a bleeding heart
to pray to God when the dawn comes
and in the stillness of nights when God speaks

she bleeds for me
her heart breaks with my own
she’s seen it before in her own light
she knows the way to healing

i gladly rest my head on her breasts
those nourishing mounds
i listen to her heart beat to find my way

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