Orange brick shelters inches apart—defective
glass cemented along the fences
She smiles warmly showing no teeth
inspecting my pasty skin and copper hair
Every step I am climbing, stashing humility and
dignity in my pocket like souvenirs
There is no dialogue
but I treasure everything she says
The untainted atmosphere makes me lightheaded,
my ego becoming a mist
My heart is coal gray and selfish—but hers,
hers is yellow and running over with thanksgiving
Mutts tremble and flee at our sight
a hound dog gallops behind
Naomi—with educated eyes, cherry cheeks,
and permitting palms in my unworthy arms
The sun polishes my skin, the breeze
whispers, and the clouds keep me company
She’s an empty-handed five year old, but
she has everything I’ve always wanted
I couldn’t stop looking at the boundless mountains
choosing to forget where I come from
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