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
~ 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.