I love the feeling of my roots

running down with the blood through my veins

I love the feeling of my hair, cheve grenn

I love the sound of my language, beneath the soil of my skin

I love the color of my people

the color of their eyes, the color of their smiles

I love sensing the aroma of my cuisine in the beats of my heart

I love to see the waters of my country in pictures, in paintings

feeling as if it’s washing over my hair

I love Ayiti

mwenn renmen Ayiti

My people, granmoun yo

Timoun yo

I love the steps of rara down the streets and through the houses of leogane

courting couples

the youth


translating men or drivers

I love Ayiti

Say the Krik? Krak! of Edwige Danticat

I love parents that have left their homeland with or without their kin

to establish a stable future

Mwen renmenn peyi’m

mwen konain kimoun mwen ye

Mwen se Ayisienne


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