I Have A Map. It Rests Next To My Cell Poem by Rifhan Miller

I have a map/ it rests next to my cell.
A large map/ a dormant cell
With continents I’ve visited, tasted, touched.
Vast seas aplenty I’ve sailed away on
Those who sailed away and never returned
I extract my fingertip:
I draw a line across two nations
Cocoon them as a supra-national entity
-Because they said there’re many fishes in the sea-
I expel those within,
Into the next international boundary

I fashion:
A climate, Cool and humid; to not parch his affection
A weather, Sunny; to personify the warmth in our hearts
A season, Summer; because he’s summer in the southern hemisphere

I paint a cloud:
I left a space at its core; my yearning heart rests within.
-Because they say home is where the heart is-

I sketch a home:
Right beneath. It has a bare garden with a single rose.
Resting in the comfort of its petals: his heart

Like a cottony blanket with trinkets at its rim
I shower it. I shelter it. I nurture it. –From afar-

Both hearts thumping to the rhythm of its withering thorns, to the pattering of my raindrops
Both hearts breathing to the momentum of its swaying to the passing wind
Both hearts dreaming to the canopy of stars flickering from my trinkets

I have a map. It rests next to my cell.
It has two islands.