A burning bush is a language
And a shoeless foot is as naked as the back of a newborn
Rolling words into the fire
Is how we give birth to the world
& flee from it.
I cannot marry this boy that shares my tongue
Because our mothers mothers mothers mother
Shared a lover.
I have come to a life where love needs fact-checking, Ask;
- Was this birthmark inflicted or did you grow it from another life?
- When you sleep with your eyes open, who do you look like?
- How often do you think of a grave?
- Is it a coincidence that you find sleep in my great grandfather’s armchair?
- Is your grey hair a gift or a prophecy?
- Where do you go in your dreams?
- Are those sandcastles you are digging up in our backyard or is it your life?
Today, I heard my ancestors in my lover’s moan
I may carry children for a body that started my birth
And deliver myself again,
Any type of love you loose
Any type of love that feels like home
has existed before.
Roseline Mgbodichinma is a Nigerian writer, poet and blogger who is passionate about documenting women’s stories. She is currently pursuing a law degree and actively freelancing. Her work has been published on Isele, Native Skin, Down River Road, Amplify, JFA human rights mag, Blue marble review, Indianapolis review, the hellebore and elsewhere. Roseline Mgbodichinma is a Nigerian writer, poet and blogger who is passionate about documenting women’s stories. You can reach her on her blog at www.mgbodichi.com where she writes about art, issues and lifestyle.