By Ojo Olumide Emmanuel
PROMPT — Who am I today?
I lost my first tooth when I first learned how to stretch my cheeks in smiles & laughter. Mom said I was growing while she too, was aging.
A boy fell off a tree in my neighborhood and broke his spinal cord.
His body crawled into a river and sank, only to realize he was my swimming partner.
My heart still rumbles with tension, I stopped swimming. I miss him. I miss the river that held our memories. I miss how we swam in its body.
I stare at my ceiling, my thought journeys to the twinkling stars in my heart. My head quakes and the memories snail in my whole.
I'm alone like a butterfly stripped of its wings and beauty.
In this room of dark thoughts, I become a kettle that oozes bitter coffees of aloneness in cups.
Ojo Olumide Emmanuel is a Poet and editor. His works have appeared and are forthcoming at Feral, Quills, PIN, TBR, WRR, and elsewhere. He is a fellow of SprinNG Writers Fellowship. He writes from Nigeria.