from my bones.
What do you think about loving the strange people?
The ones that duck their head oddly when you speak to them.
The man with the gestures that seem to belong to a different conversation.
The people whose constant mumbling begs for your attention.
The woman with the limping speech.
Those. Them. They.
curious and bizzare
I know what you think about loving them.
I really do.
Isn't that what we say?
I guess the better question would be
How do you feel about loving the strange people?
Discomfort is normal. I expect it. I expect you to feel it.
What I ask
recognition that the he or she
he or she is a someone.
And let's look them in the eye, okay?
And maybe extend a hand for a shake or a pat on the back.
I just had to ask.
Cause this comes from the very marrow of my bones, it feels like.