At the edge of what flutters your heart in silence,
a story is fading away.
Since I was a kid, I found my life in the nucleus of triangles not yet completed
just like my pinnacle reaching the voice of a missing father.
Nowhere is safer than the sharpened elbow of a mother: a comfort arena of
a growing child If the sun betrays his mother.
I know she will talk about the nightmares,
they came with blooming fire and water that washed away her past grief.
I know she will talk about the night I uttered strange languages—those
words that brought about the departure of innocent stars.
This is how I live with fear—an undying threat. Just like wounds,
my body craves for healing.
Okeke Echezona writes from Ojoto, a town in Nigeria. His poems have appeared in African Writers and other online magazines and journals.
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