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?