July 2021

I begin this poem with a high-pitched fever. A damp piece Of paper will get lit by just being inches away from my skin. I’ll Cool my body by sitting…

a contrition to sanity lost to drown a demon is to pour yourself into a glass of vodka, & finger john legend’s “all of me” instrumentals on a piano. it…

                      The cruellest of deaths is the voice locked in a box, or a name that can’t      …

I search for my reflection in the muzzled eyes of the man across me. You are not here & this longing is ribbing its way out of my chest. I…

a flailing child knows the gift of noise when water gobbles up his screams. faith looses its grip; snagged on ropes of             morality, and God is known as the…

Every writer I know writes about grief — how their bodies wither like feathers of a bird slapped by famine, how they kangaroo pain and cheetah their cheeks into the…

I sit next to my mother’s raffia skirts, recounting the living bones and tracks of dead dreams. I linger along the pool to drink alongside the ferocious wolf on the…

I am stuck between a biology of wants & desire, that I grow into a tunnel full of voices & echoes My first woman told me in my early age…