she knew that she loved him that late August afternoon in Philadelphia’s Clark Park when her heart gently pulled itself away from her chest to keep up with his quick stride-his dignified step. his soul-alive from the beginning. our magnesian flesh-attatched without warning. nothing less than magikal. only smells of oak shrubs and vegan falafel underneath blistering hot sun. not even our own freedom could’ve prepared us for the journey to come nor the sound of hugh masakela pandora station playing loud from the speakers. instead our good sense felt us through rapid successions of heart beats, iPhones, usies, flirty “ass” gestures, close talk, art and disbelief. flutterflies beneath root chakras had us open. our love extraordinary like supernovas. dared into an abyss of melanin. wide open. two non-corporeal of substance contrasted with the material of our bodies. we longed for each other like missed soul connections or like the last hug received from a loved one that had passed on. prototypes of afrikan descent, overlapped after thousands of years. nothing mattered-time nor reason. our love expressed like breast milk. unabashed the moment we “saw” each other. love archaic before conception. nothing less than a mirakle. solar planets lit the way. sage smoke cleared the path we skipped along. our locs told stories. our kinesics serenaded vulnerable. been singing ever since.
-Thee Amazing Grace
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