Do I believe in America

Do I believe in America?
Abroad, I’m loud.
It’s abroad that others call me, red, white, and blue, and cocky.
Do I believe in America?
I’ve been a foreigner, over and over.
I’ve been eons away.
It’s all a fashionable haze…
But she’s here in America.
She lives here, beneath the sun.
She gathers herself each night, probably takes the metro.
She knows her name.
Across a heavy sceen, that looms and loops, that includes American jeans, American guns, she sneezed and wipes her nose.
I coughed and clear my throat.
Hand in hand.
America

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