When my people ask me how my trip to the holy lands were, all I do is nod and say ‘good’. And I’m not lying, it was. But I want to say other things that I can’t. That I don’t know how to voice any more. Like I’ve learnt how to stop talking about things that are important to me.
Or I’ve learnt not to talk about things that are important to me.
Or perhaps, the words are just knotted together – the way they often are these days.
Even on quiet nights on top of baobab trees in Madagascar.