Her African child

Her African child

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Her African child


Raised by she
Whose heels I wore in secrecy
Amused by how tall she wanted to be,
Yet everyone already looked high up to her
From a million staircases down…

I need not fancy heights offered by mountains
She will always be my ras dashen
My Kilimanjaro

And I am strong because of her strong spirit
African mother I inherited her supple beauty

Fiery eyes my vision illumined with dreams
Dreams she refuses to remain in my bed state
Tore up my pillow yes she did
‘‘mwana you letting your pillow soak your dreams!”

Raised by she
She who bred my Gentle hands
caressful yet reserved to love only the future father of my own
One man…

like my mamma has my father
You never find her swaying hips to predispose men
She teaches my love to be loyal

African child to a royal.

My mind is a garden of wisdom she has been working on
I just wake up
and I realize I’m more, every second I’m with her.

Zulu tongue calls her ndlovukazi… a queen.

Swahili men call her malkia… a queen

I call her mom.
The queen

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