I wonder sometimes
if I’d become the person I am
if I’d grown up in another house,
in other skins,
under different skies.
..If my heart had grown up with the African sun
or found nourishment by Indian rivers
or fallen asleep in far away furs,
would I still experience life’s basics,
and the magics,
the way I do, in my very own way?
And would this be the only moment
in which privilege and poverty