I have been here so long
I feel like I am from here.
I am a banana, but
I haven’t always been one.
I was an alien.
Foreign and strange
Everything seemed,
Like a transplanted organ.
Summer weekday afternoon,
Empty street save moving van,
Having preceded our stuff
On this intercontinental journey.
Sitting on the front lawn,
I am distracted from the movers
By an approaching black boy.
I look up at the looming figure
Whose head is eclipsing the sun.
He hands me an envelope,
Inviting me to his birthday party,
Pointing out his house across the street
Before returning from whence he came.
I run excitedly into my house.
On appointed day and time
I am accompanied to the house.
I ring the doorbell, eliciting hurried footsteps.
The black boy opens the door.
Behind him stand two white men
Whom my friend introduces as his two dads.
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