Memory
"I do not want to die or be born again. I do not want to hold what I know in my heart, and I do not want to speak it. I want only to be home, a young girl, watching the horizon, dangling my legs, and enjoying for the first time the ocean washing my feet, the water so calm the sky is cloudless."
"A small jagged voice whispered at my right ear: You are Abégúndé.The birthmark on your neck, where your throat rests between Africa and Brasil, is your sanction to sing even the dead into their graves without fear. Daughter, thank you. We will wait for your lullabies to deliver us into Memory. We will wait for your return."
What the ancestors said to me when I visited a Ilha de Frades, Brasil, 2003
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