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I think I’ve figured out

that you (blond, blue-eyes, sculpted lips)

occupy a space of simplicity

in me.

that you are the opposite

of the kind

of the LRA

kidnapping and torturing children,

that now run to towns every night to sleep

to avoid being turned

into killing machines.

That you are not

the children of Afghans who fought Russians

and grew up in madrases

to become institutions of hate.

That you are the many operational departments

of the UN,

unexplained, necessary, confusing but hopeful.

That you are resilience,

stronger than will.

And admist your affections,

which I am drenched in –

little jewels of a juicy pomengrante,

pear juice dribbling down my wrists during summertime,

warm oils on achy muscles,

your love of water

and my love of swimming,

our love of existing in water –

I now understand a little more how the world functions

with reality television shows,

superstar drama

and struggling NGO’s

side-by-side.

A generation of HIV-AIDS orphans in Africa

become a generation,

mental illness destabilizes the brave,

seeds of hate mature into violence.

So when you tell me,

at the wrong time,

how my mother’s gold jewels make me look like a princess,

and your favorite is me in yellow silk,

(that one I wore with the white lace)

it is the right time.

Or when you make an inappropriate joke

when I’m furring my eyebrows at the complexity,

it now makes me giggle.

You remind me of a simplicity

which renews hope.

When our worlds collided on the street you didn’t absorb my limitations,

and the laughter, the cool evenings,

the water, the teasing, the red t-shirts,

the tickles, the runny mascara, the prickly heat,

all told me

I’m not limited.

I love how you’re happy to be yourself.

i love how you’re happy to be yourself with me.

You are the capability of co-existence.