On 31st January 1995
Tiny hands push the base of my palm
To sink into 50 year old
Corded sofa
Red.
The first they brought
After landing.
Nanny has double tones in her soft voice
I am taught how we talked
Before,
she takes me through the truth in our
Folk songs
Sings with no western hesitation
Humming leaves my throat.
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March 1998
Fingers entangled in the string
Of a long awaited yoyo
Juvenile frustrations paints
My expression
The knowing hand of Grandma
Teaches me how to
Throw away and command this tiny satellite
And smile with my eyes
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In 2006
I learnt that
When I saw her crying I didn’t need permission
To hold her velvet hands
And love in silence