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The space is a friend.I tell it what hurts.
I tell it why I'm not good.The space is a friend.I tell it the bother I'm in.It won't let me tell lies.
Slurping up the last of my frozen yogurt,I overhear someone say,'Being a Simese twin has got to beThe WorstThing Ever.'
A plant called loveA plant called hate
I grew them both in my garden.The plant called love was hard work.
We don' have a Springtime like some folkWho live in dem colder place,but we have a time when de soft rain come,an' tease open de seedcaseo' de poincianna and de trumpet tree,
We turn our faces up and jiggle thirty toes,Morse-coding longing with our restless beat.When will it come?Shepherds on the first Nativity, we scan the skiesand huddle,
I spied a small lonely boy.I was his beautiful red balloon,from morning through to noon,
This morning I've got too much energymuch too much for geography
I'm in a high moodso class don't think me crudebut you can stuff latitude and longitude
Song-bird shut dem mout' an lissen,Church bell don't bother to ring,All de little stream keep quietWhen mi Granny sing.
I am on the bathroom floorscreeching,Tippi shaking me back into the world.
Behind youWindrush childpalm trees wave goodbye
above youWindrush childseabirds asking why
around youWindrush childblue water rolling by