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A beam of sunlight escapes through the kitchen curtains It goes through the glass vase on the dining table And onto my golden brown skin I can see patterns of the light through my eyelids My head lies on the cool white tile My hands sit above my navel My feet brushing against the wall I hear my mother speaking Wolof on the phone, “Naakam? Waaw, hallai bahna” The smell of okra and beef dance around the kitchen I inhale and exhale, counting my breaths Until a tall shadow comes over me I open my eyes, and my mother is in view “Kai laika” she looks at me, with her phone between her cheek and shoulder A wooden spoon in one hand And a baby on her back I crawl out of the warm sunlight That shined through my closed eyes That shined onto my golden brown skin That shined through the vase on the dining table That shined from the kitchen window curtains.
0
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:28 PM UTC
Nostalgia
A beam of sunlight escapes through the kitchen curtains It goes through the glass vase on the dining table And onto my golden brown skin I can see patterns of the light through my eyelids My head lies on the cool white tile My hands sit above my navel My feet brushing against the wall I hear my mother speaking Wolof on the phone, “Naakam? Waaw, hallai bahna” The smell of okra and beef dance around the kitchen I inhale and exhale, counting my breaths Until a tall shadow comes over me I open my eyes, and my mother is in view “Kai laika” she looks at me, with her phone between her cheek and shoulder A wooden spoon in one hand And a baby on her back I crawl out of the warm sunlight That shined through my closed eyes That shined onto my golden brown skin That shined through the vase on the dining table That shined from the kitchen window curtains.
Written by
earth
Dec 24, 2025
Dec 24, 2025 at 9:28 PM UTC
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