For the Girl Next To My Soul

i am making love in this poem. my hands worshiping her feet like a god. her smile is where i want to sit & grow old in her belly. maybe, i should tell her a story. of how the ocean tides rise & fall for our sake. that her kisses are enzymes that continue to speed up reactions in our bodies. i love this girl like the holy spirit. whenever she descends into my body, i become a witness/telling people about her everywhere. she hails from the foundation of africa. i have seen the grain coast on her skin. that means: i am in love with a liberian girl. i love this girl according to the words coming out of my tongue, & the meditation that crawls in my heart. for this girl, i have found africa.