For Vivian Ify Ezeala (Vee)
I would not reduce you to metaphors
Or lyrics of a sad poem
Or one-day tears and indigestion/
I want to tell so much of want
and what it means to blend with grief/ cradle lostness
gently, gently/ like unrehearsed music
I want to embrace the rudiments of mourning
like a widowed wife/ tongue heavy throat sour
and the words failing to hinge like your laughter
a day before you slipped with the night/ ha ha ha
At your funeral two women roll bodies in the mud/
two men are forcing them up/ a priest
is declaring you dead/ and your body is being lowered
six feets from my ankle/
I want to tell you that I have prepared two holes
for my knees/ beside your grave
& a passage door for our leaving.
I want to say: come, hold these palms
so they never get cold again and even if they do
you’ll breathe and laugh ha ha ha
because I’ll be gone, not you.
Iheoma Uzomba is currently a student of English and Literary Studies at the University of Nigeria Nsukka. Her works feature on The Shore, Kissing Dynamite, The Rising Phoenix Review, Dreich Magazine, Fac-Simile Editions and elsewhere.