Discovery! Not like colonial powers, but like archeologists. More like blinded eyes being opened by the kiss of a blessing. I’ve come to your altar, presents for your deity. For you, deity. In what twisted language you speak? I’ve never heard such intensely smooth melodies. You must of taught humanity R&B. Oh, you must be R&B! Drenched in your waters, I never minded my body and soul. On wretched knees, I gift you this poem. These poems. This vessel. These hands. This raspy voice. Crucify me for these wishes. Who could rock a stigmata like me? You speak beauty like erupting volcanos. Earth quakes when you strut through my memories. Tell me your heritage. Tell me your history. I wrote you another poem, outlined in my lungs. I purified them through breath. Breathe and I would recite you an epic rivaling the Odyssey. The Wasteland. The Bible. In the scope of your beauty, I have tasted astronomy. I knew you were a devil child. A godly child. A God in your demeanor.


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