To my friend, Naalmout
I think of us as two different bodies, nourished in our separate ways. I breathed on a soil, I can’t say I call my own, Did you breathe on soil you can call yours? I think of our skins like the soil from our lands, differently textured. I long for the texture of your soil, I can call it familiar. Have you ever felt your skin as though you felt it for the first time? I think of meeting you, in your soil. I want to talk through our skins. Can we have a deep conversation, where our soil meet to nourish our skin?
