I want to make a pilgrimage
back to our homeland
of sand, blood, and ripened figs.
To unearth the garden I planted in another life
the roots of which might still cling
to their moorings in the earth,
even after this long storm of upheaval.
I want to whisper your forbidden name
unto the ears of the warm winds
that my voice might ride the gusts unto you,
break upon your back, and cause you to look up
and think of me as we walk the long path
back to one another.
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