When they ask 
Tell them I miss home 
Like I miss a love gone bad 
I don’t miss you 
I miss the love 
I miss who you were 
We decayed and flourished 
We had to leave for us to grow 
Just caught glimpses of each other 
I had to be gone 
But nothing will ever taste 
Like your first love

-For Kenya 

Long hours and
Low compensation
and Low levels of
exposure to sunshine
Make us sore and raw
Not our bodies
As much as our souls

-for women who stopped smiling years ago