Image source@debbywhyte


Woman, you salvaged me when
i was the wriggling fish at the end of the hook
you took the worm in my mouth
and wrote worm-notes of how a hook can be a bond
between a fish and a fisher-woman

But how you let nautical miles turn into Berlin Walls on either side of us,
how you’re now words that appear on my chat screen
the emojis that smile and love
and kiss
and hurt

You’re the scent that never was,

the hypersomnia, the quirky neuralgia that comes and goes– coy Tilapia circling the mate course–

On that note, you are the vision that

never was, the fevered dream of summers in the Caribbean and tanning in the Bahamas


We thought of tropical worlds, market

places of the heart where yellow bananas and red water melons and green cucumbers delight the heart;

and thought of heated spaces, cramped spaces, fucked spaces, dirty sheets, dirty linen, run-down hotels tucked shamefully into sad alleyways

Fucked into comfort with love, straining muscles and pelvis all night: pat-pat-pat . . .

We’ve messed up shame with sjamboks forged by the same shame
we’ve chosen the open world
we’ve finally roiled ourselves out
of existence

Because, in the end, this is what you are and this is what i am: fucked spirits in a fucked world


About the author
CHIMEZIE CHIKA, a graduate of Literature, had been a finalist in the Africa Book Club Short Reads Competition (2013). In 2015, he participated in the Writivism Creative Writing Workshop in Lagos. His fiction, nonfiction, and poetry have been published in numerous literary journals and blogs including Aerodrome, Black Boy Review, Brittle Paper, Praxis Magazine, The Kalahari Review, etc.



We're legion

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