The sands, storm around the base spinning around solid foundation as we watch in amazement questioning the conception of a structure created by the Omnipotent hands of God, gazing at Giza staring into the sun shining on the back of the pyramids. Definitive, undeniable shape of heaven crafted, towering over me I bear witness to the Nile acting as umbilical cord nourishing earlier civilizations as legendary futures become historical pasts. Grains of sand enter my nasal cavity and I breathe in the essence of life, tasting millions of years which have the calculated scent of a few trimesters. Positioned next to sisters and protected by the guardian Sphinx who flanks the temple, rather the body... The perfect portrait of a pyramidion. Less material high with a majority of weight pushing down towards canals distant from Suez, anatomically built of Nubian limestone labeled melanin I see cultivation within angular eyes and the rising population of pharaohs in wombs of Egyptian ancestry. Images depict you, wonder of the world wondering how you stand strong for lifetimes as time gives life before you while nations disrespect you, wild masons abuse your meaning taking you for granted when they should worship the sands beneath because you silently screamed in childbirth as the Sahara deserted you just as the Blue deserted him before and the sand storm cycle continues blowing the genetics of fury through the placenta to be washed away in the Red Sea, but its not... It travels from dynasty to dynasty, through your heartbeat in Cairo to that of your offspring in Aswan creating sharper edges, strengthening your stone-like exterior from apex to base, every face of you is exquisite. Your goodbye causes the sun to set and I've finally learned to say I love you in Arabic, mother, you're a pyramid. ***