WOUNDS.
the BLU-82 blasted & our flower wept to ashes
like a goddamned street. one of Hurty’s eyes
caprioled into a water-tank as if his god was at
the gym. at home, mother pats my back too
much that my bones could reject straight bullets.
it’s cold outside, bags carry corpses than luggage.
besides, who could play jazz on a field where fire
antagonizes themselves— where the sky is red enough to
suck the blood left in the ass of a black boy?
today is a testimony— i still carry my breath around, bruised and battered.
©2022 Fatihah Quadri Eniola All rights reserved.
Fatihah Quadri Eniola is a Nigerian poet, creative writer, and lover of cinematography.
She is a member of HCAF (Hilltop creative arts foundation), Nibstears Poetry Cave, B.G.T( Black girl’s tales) and a pressman at Al Faheedah Press. Her work has appeared in Kalahari Review, Beatnik Cowboy, World Voices magazine, Notion press, De Curated, Syncronized Chaos and elsewhere.