others

1 June 2016

we begin because the worlds before ours ended
sometimes abruptly sometimes in burning
sometimes we survived & met sometimes i
do not make it sometimes you get better first
& feel burdened by my smell of smoke

the dead root me to strange cities & i wish you
would come visit i shift the ghosts to one side
to make room for you in bed i climb over
your sleeping body & make ablution in the dark
i kneel & say i’m sorry i listen to a man strum
a carved & painted lute the sound is liquid
& fills me you wake & i am crying &
will not let you hear the song you wake &
i am praying shaping incantations
with my mouth & never offering to translate

This entry was posted in AFRICA and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Related Posts:

Comments are closed.

Please read Cordite's comments policy before joining the discussion.