For Zoba This is the eyes of what makes me who I am. Onyenkem. The gloss on her lips is the tongue of darkness The contour on her face peril the skin of the silent lessons I fail to unlearn. Before you bring yourself home, remember those quills on the headlines of our pages, those cremated sighs we deposited at a cinerarium. Remember when your voice caged the strength of the earth, the tears of widows and widowers who licked forgotten drops of salty water. Remember how we trudged with the footfalls of sinking ships. Before you break, remember that "melancholia" is the first name for our footprints and that "beauty" is the surname. Your mother's boring lull is the swirling vortex that holds us together, and remember the crippled caesura in the body of this poem || [Never forget that I never exist]
About the Author
Nwaoha Chibuzor Anthony is a Nigerian poet and novelist who lives in Orlu, a sleepy city in the Eastern Nigeria. His works have appeared in Nantygreens, Kalahari review and elsewhere. He hopes to write his continent into a poem someday.