Addictions

My mother catches Me hemming the insides of my womb With a fine toothed comb. Yesterday a man tried to bury A generation of children in me With a hand grenade.   She asks me if i’ve eaten, And proceeds to hand me our neighbours gossip Like a bowl of cooling soup. I am forced…

Wanderlust 

Your tongue, it straddles mine in the most unusual of ways. You call me two nights ago, you say you miss me. You say you’re sorry, you say you have found someone new. Someone that makes your toes curl up and the meeting of your legs moist. You say you kiss her and your stomach…

Inheritance

you have the eyes of a dead man, and i carry in my first name the spirit of a dead woman. my child will some day have my body, but maybe they too will carry the spirit of a dead woman with a tongue so heavy with her own language that she will fail to…