She | Diaspora child

i have never seen this place called home

never walked its soil
never seen its reds, its blues
i have never seen this place called home
never danced its floors
never slept its nights
never seen its days
and i flinch to the thought of it

yet
i carry it proudly
in my mother’s given name
that leaves tongues tied

yet
i carry it
in a language that is left
broken on my lips

i carry it
in the darkness of my skin
in the coils in my hair
in the depths of my truth
yes, i carry it.