Dream Me

Continents breathe life
into these
arms
lips
thighs
These feet know the stain
of red Georgia clay and
the sting of an angry fire ant
These hands grind
cumin
cardamom
cayenne
and clap a mean Bhangra beat
This smile recalls my mommy
my brow belongs to daddy
I am their wildest diaspora
dream
come
true


The pieces of poetry on this blog and Write Bitches are works of fiction, erupting from my incredibly over-active imagination. And my unending love for all things romance.

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2 thoughts on “Dream Me

    • Oh, honey… I adore you.
      And your Georgia red clay stained feet, your Daddy’s brow, your Mama’s smile. ❤
      In a month, we are bourbon cocktail sipping, pimento cheese eating, and laughing all the way.
      Together!
      JM

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