Silver spoon in perfect mouth,
sneakers running on fresh grass,
life passing through windows,
girls laughing at a restaurant.
Boys sitting by the water,
sunset at the horizon,
kisses between two soulmates.
Morning ritual of tea and banana,
oranges with warm toast and butter,
hands holding a body in adornment.
Heavy tears flowing out of a broken heart,
sadness as a chain choking a neck,
a mother laying dead on the ground.
Sisters fist fighting in a small room,
fathers trying their personal best,
girls punching anger out of themselves.
Calling ex boyfriend’s aunt for closure,
there is no shame in loving boys who left but,
not enough contempt to love husbands, not ours.
Long walks on winter evenings eating love,
writing stories we thought would become a lifetime.
Hands clenching a back in pain,
alleviating wounds only love can heal.
Mothers should live as long as their daughters,
sons are nurtured by their mother’s love,
all children want their parents to be present.
Benches in schools where we spent lunch breaks,
building the kind of friendship teenagers do best,
unaware of how quickly we would grow into adults.
Taking a hammer to one’s own heart and wrecking it,
then picking up the pieces to reassemble a stronger heart.
Standing by the water to call out God for answers,
with the mind replaying memories of the past,
and the present coming to a standstill at a crossroads.
Sharing intimacy with naked bodies in a stranger’s bed,
opening up about the boy we truly loved.
Brisk morning walk with wind in the hair,
breath of fresh air and calm thoughts to induce serenity.
Our humanity grounds us on earth,
as we catapult into actions and reactions,
living yet resisting life until it forces us to surrender.