Of friends, Of love, Of anything that blooms beautifully in the crevice of my heart
your body cloaks in the emblem of God’s love—
you caricature your way into my heart,
transport the love into my soul…
My Christmas Culture
Every year
On Christmas Eve, all the children make a bonfire
With the dried and fallen mango leaves.
We are setting on fire, old and rubbish items
That will no longer be a part of us.
God is Small Small.
Mama always ask God to continue to give her breath, but I tink it is her nose that is giving her breath. If I close her nose with my hand, or handkerchief, she will stop breathing.