When my mother speaks of you she holds her chest
afraid her heart will burst into a million pieces
shattering before her uncontrollably like her childhood home
nestled comfortably between her favorite mosque and bakery
see I don't know you
I have my own favorite mosque nestled between suburbia and a couple minutes from my favorite bakery
I don't ache for you like my mother does
she remembers you in bits and pieces
sometimes you come in waves
building momentum before sending her back in to you
she can still smell the sambusas frying
and the mango juice still drips from her elbows 24 years later
you are like the boy I fell in love with at age four
violent. chaotic. hectic. I wanted more. I wanted to tame you.
you could not be tamed
she still loves you
she still loves you
she's still in love with you
you who broke her like the athan that pierces through the darkness of the night calling for prayer
you who slices like a marketplace butcher ferociously
you.
my mother's motherland
5:37 PM
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