It is in your loss I mastered the alphabets of silence, & this one here bleaches me into memories and memories and… pardon, I lose count every time I get emotional. This memory is almost silent, but I hear it. Sometime ago, I learned photos to be the fastest way to run backwards into time, I learned them to be louder than voices. There are moments I turn to God without mentioning your name, forgive me – I do not mean to do this. It’s silent here, my heartbeat matches the defibrillator in your ward last week. Here you are the memory every instant summons, and I the body that bleaches into you. The silence here transforms me into everything. I keep your photos for days like today, this time, I will not forget to say your name before God. This time, I get to run backwards into time, into memories with your face in my hand.
Born on a Friday in October, Adedokun Ibrahim Anwar is a homeschooled Nigerian, a teen writer who was born and raised in the suburbs of Lagos. He writes in a voice that is meaningful communication, for himself, for those who seek to be touched in places where humans can’t.
His work has appeared or are forthcoming in literary journals, including Brittle Paper, Eunoia Review, African Writer Magazine, The Kalahari Review, The Shallow Tales Review and elsewhere. If you don’t find him catching up with late night deadlines, you find him building bricks with toddlers.
He is also active on Twitter: @IbraaheemAde1
