We fitted, like jigsaw pieces,
locked in shape like continents
before they drifted apart.
Oceans and ships came between us.
The atmosphere heated up
our differences, our tastes.
The people who inhabited
our shores, our forests,
wanted to invade, not understand
how we fitted our imperfect ridges
into a more perfect union
of gender, of colour, of skin,
of values of humanities, and the marvels of engineering,
red blood in blue veins flowing
when we touched -
still touch through water
that connects our coasts,
carrying news via sea cables to shores,
pebbles and sands awash with messages
in bottles, across that disconnect.
We fit, like continents,
your clavicle supporting my head,
my hair blown by your breath,
your heart beating under my hand,
we lie, an uninhabited island.
