And here, at the crossroads, hesitation lingers like the pounding voices of migraine. My head ― an anvil of hooves, stammers in scattered dialects..
Mege tweeted: If not for Jehovah they would have dug the earth for cocoyam on my grave, but would I have known? I This..
Àṣàké my love, You said you are from Òyó, that you like your Àmàlà fele fele and your ewédú with gbègìrì So, I added..
Eager to tell them As many as possible are incredible The prologues of our personalities Stories that turn our bodies into a hot sauce, Crafted..
This is how to write the story of the end of (your) existence: You will have a sister who plucks her..
here my dear flower with the wind and drifting just behind your breast plate in front of your heart there is a glow that..
NEFELIBATA Last night, whilst I slept I sojourned the land of dreams in my dream, I was a man and my name was Nefelibata..
I Your fingers traipsing across my face taste like cigarettes Smells I use to hate taste so lovely when they tickle my nostrils winking..
LOVE CAME TO DESOLATE CITIES Old bones are percussion instruments Colliding to music played in buried cities. Most cities sing a funeral dirge to..
heat you spoke to me in the language of divinity: your words, a prophecy. your touch, a laying on of hands – a prelude..
