the culture of the cross
spreads out from the tongues
of prophets & clergies
its ways so tender like wool
but they throw bayonet at those
who don't raise the flag of their culture—
they say they are entitled to burn.
the culture of the star too
spreads out from the tongues
of clerics & sheiks
its way so rigid like baobab
they also throw dirk at those
who don't clasp their culture—
they say they will be plagued with
fire.
my father's voice carries
his culture
although its way so primitive
like relics,
it snatches my love
as it leads people into its bosom
sans scaring those who don't enter
with fire.
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