my father my god

wet warmth, the smell of hot rain
one breath and I am five years old again
her hair adorned with jasmine
forehead smeared with red
she was treated like a little davie
she offered the fruits to him
balanced on her head

my father, my god
my father, my god

he was the sun to her
he was gentle and warm
but to them he was perfect
he was god
they gave him too much power

my father, my god
my father, my god

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