POETRY: The Memories we Carry in our Bellies and I Slept Without my Bones By Ozota Gerald Obinna
if a house stands for too long
does it grow into a home?
home grows into a tomb
the day …
Poem: The boy with the issue of blood II By Enotor Prosper
A knife, its lip of silver, kisses into your wrist to
uncoil the streaks of ennui passing for veins along your arms ___boy, bleed. Your ex lover so turned up the volume
Poem: I Collect What Remains of this Poem in Another Dream By Enotor Prosper
My Father tweaks my skull a little more, making certain it doesn’t fall out. In the dream, we don’t talk. You could get hanged