01• 18• 2022

Skin caramel with red undertones,

like the soil my grandmother used to bury seeds in.

I often wonder what she looked like.

Do we share the same crooked smile?

Do her dimples fold into crescents?

Skin golden,

hair in tight coils,

currents of sun-kissed curls who have traveled farther than me.

Who do I owe this heart to?

Feels like it’s been daydreaming for ages,

loving for the right reasons.

You turned me into a believer,

faith seeker building solid foundations

for those willing to take the lead.

hello beautiful people! this piece is an oldie but goodie from my archives, originally published on my Medium blog and dated accordingly.

Legacy

Nyctophilia