In the crucifix of your spine. Pinned down on old mattress stained with whiskey and cigarette buds. This is where I found your God. Baptism by fire. Naked. Cardinal points painted in your body. Go south you said. Northern wings were too violent for shelter. Northern mountain to sore for climbing. Go south you said. That’s your motherland. The tropics. Eat from my rainforest you said l. Mango, cocoa, papaya, tamarind. There’s were the scents. These were the flavored of your body. I found your God in you. Part of your melody. Part of your panting. That was my motherland, you said. So God must be home. And you must be home. And I cried. For years I’ve felts homeless. And in you I’ve found my heritage. My history. From your body I learned my native tongue. I’ve been home with you. You. Are. Home. 


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