I am the earth, my sleeves are my hands, my
eyes are needles. In another eyes, I am a bird, a bird’s song
in my soul, I am a space, a room, a man’s home.
I am that man, my collar chokes
a building, a wall, stars, dim, white, orange.
A milky cluster in dark matter.
I am believer of the earth and its maker.
The world is a ball in a ball in his hand
and a swell in my stomach.
I am the earth bleeding out mountains.
The sea bleeding out fish, fins, gills, tentacles,
hydra, corals, shells, pearls, mermaid.
A monster in its belly, writhing a tsunami.
I am the earth bleeding out trees, leaves, roots, fruits
branches, gardens, a forest and a park.
The sun unperceived under the polar bear’s tweed,
blackened. The moon hangs on a guava tree.
Wekpe Ruru is an enthusiastic writer and a lover of literature. He writes to capture an image of himself outside himself. He loves adventure and values serenity in the society. He is a geologist currently committing his Youth Service in Cross Rivers State. He hails from Aningeje villa. He posts his works under the pseudonym Erow, you can see more of his works on Instagram: @hairmit