King: I beat my drum daily hoping you’d hear me-

hoping you’d hear the way home.

Queen: I stood on the shores of the Atlantic watching and waiting-

in the distance I heard the faint sound of a drum

beating as if calling, calling me home.

King: You never came.

Queen: I never could.

King: I called out to you wailing, crying, lamenting, repenting--

on my drums I beat out my plea to you.

Queen: I was told that the sound that I heard were the sounds from

the deep, deep jungle from a people with no soul, no God

and so I closed my ears and turned away.

King: You never came.

Queen: I never could.

King: My Queen...

Queen: ...My King speak!

King: I have loved you from a distance. I have reached my hand to you

time and time again and have been pierced. My heart grew

weary and so I spoke words of unkindness to you, about you.

Queen: Deep inside I have loved you too in a way that words can not even say.

Inside I knew that the words I heard and spoke were lies.

I dreamed of a day when we two could become one.

King: You did not come.

Queen: I never could.

Queen: My King...

King: ...Speak my Queen!

Queen: Can you love me?

King: Yes.

Queen: Can you love me with these thick lips?

King: These lips are a gift on which to taste the sweetness of my breath.

Regard how thick and wide are my lips.

Queen: Can you love me?

King: Yes.

Queen: Can you love me with such a wide broad nose?

King: My beloved the width and breadth of your nose represents only a fraction of the width and breadth of my love for you.

Queen: Can you love me?

King: Yes.

Queen: Can you love me with these large hips and big rear?

King: My dear these were my first gifts to you. I saw your plight ahead and gave them as a needed resource to carry you through hard times.

Queen: Can you love me?

King: Yes!

Queen: Can you love me with the curliness, the thickness, the kinkyness of my hair?

King: My love, your hair was the last gift that I gave you before you left. Your hair

was your history and your future bent up, kinked up, curled up into one. Each bend and curl, each twist and every kink has a purpose...or should I say had a purpose until...

Queen: ...until I traded the image of my God for an idol.

I traded the image of my God for an idol.

I traded the image of God for an idol!

Can you love me!

King: I have loved you since the beginning of time. I have loved you!

Queen: But I never came!

King: You never could.

Queen: You beat your drums daily hoping I’d hear you!

King: You stood on the Atlantic watching/waiting.

Queen: I never came!

King: You never could. Behold, you’re hear now.

Queen: And so I am.

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