The island where barefooted walks
don’t turn heads like in city paths
Where pits of arms and legs
with sprouting hairs do not magnetize anyone else’s disgust of nature’s right.
Her skin Soaking the moonlight as if it’s her lingerie
No mirrors to distort the view of self
no tweezers to tweak the face .
Satisfied there
And the faithfully
songs she sang
suddenly being drenched.
Mmm this captivating land
No, I have not forgotten the space
Where the air
Breathed me
into it.
And I welcomed
her in
A profound gift she offered,
Indeed.
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