November 24, 2019


Photo by LoboStudio Hamburg on Unsplash  




There is a portion of your lips / where I bury my soul

when you kiss me. It is made of honey / and the taste of love.

There is a portion of your heart / that guides me into songs and dance-

A path to voices / that have hidden in my throat.

I remember the day / you held my hands

Beside a dying candle and said my name / in whispers and out loud

And I felt my bones / come to life as they heard / a voice

that sprouts flowers in hearts of stone.

I remember Sam Smith begging you to stay with me

That day the clouds lifted / you to a bluer nowhere.

I remember how my tears / rained, raved and railed

Who will water my dry / bones devoid of song?

The day your feet ventured beyond our nirvana

I took a pen and wrote / your name down and saw how it

 broke the paper into stories, smiles and sweetness.


There is a portion of my mind / where I go to weep

in sad moans. It is made of songs

and honey

and you.




~ Salam Wosu







Salam Wosu, a poet and aspiring novelist, is a Chemical Engineer from Nigeria. His works interrogates grief, depression, love, antichauvinism and sexuality. He was shortlisted for the Korean Nigerian Poetry Fiesta  award 2017 & 2019. His works are on or forthcoming in Glass Poetry Press, Kissing Dynamite, Dream Noir, PIN, RIC journal and Mounting the Moon (anthology of queer Nigerian poems). He is @salam_wosu on all platforms. 


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