Just Like Jamaica

Like cocobread and patties,
Ting and Kola champagne
Tasting you sends crazy satisfaction through my veins
You suck the life out of me,
Like stubborn mosquitoes
I welcome you,
translating you like Bien Venidos
into stares and body language only we understand
You make me feel richer than a Negril suntan
You remind me of Jamaica,
as calm as the shores of Mo’ Bay,
As relaxing as Ocho Rios
The way you move through me
Like West Indian winds
The ease at which you make me fly like Hummingbirds
Smelling Hibiscus flowers—in other words:
You are like watching the stars on Red Hills
Like walking barefoot in soft mahogany soil,
running in warm breezes through Fern Gully,
Like sipping Horlicks or Milo
Or sucking mangos to the pit
If Utopia existed on earth,
This is it
because you are my Kingston.
And I shall never forget Jamaica.

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