I do not hug mother. Often.
Mother loves me.
My bag hugs me. My bag does not love me. My bag cannot love me.
I have seen hugs last years between enemies. A love
that should not be. That is not. There is love that does not
have to need to touch. And it is love.
God hugged me. On the day I should have one: there were no hands.
How do you see hands that are Spirit and Body and Spirit?
How do you feel hands that fold around the world sunshine on a rainy day?
I have known it cannot be felt like I have skins staying on mine.
A divine hug from arms that spread continents and have some loose would
make me lost in burning love.
There is a love that does not touch skins. It holds souls, carries spirits.
I want a love that leaves me lost
and found. Like God’s.
Like mother’s –
While we do not hug not often.
And that’s this week’s post. Also, find the books I read in 2018. I am working on a 2019 reading list that I’d be updating live on this blog. Find it in the menu under Books and Reading.
XoXo,
Awo.
©Awo Twumwaah 2019
Afua Awo Twumwa 