Our Intermediary

And where did we come from?

We have brought our love to the alter of Zion.

Praying that the spirits of our Abiku will rise again.

We whisper forgotten prayers into the imaginations of our future,

Clasping hope to the unknown,

perhaps we waited too long.

For the bang,

the scream,

the jolt,

back into,

what was never in our power.

Familiar

I’ve met you before.
Somewhere between the conversing streets of death and life,
we met behind a forgotten alleyway.
Discussing our dreams and failed attempts to climb the moon,
and define the way the sun shone across our souls.

I’ve met you before.
When I met that full outburst of laughter, I wept.
Feeling the waves of familiarity and comfort wash over me anew.
I could live and die many times over to hear that laughter.
SO full of life, pain and strength.

I’ve met you before.
Carrying your brokeness in a little tin jar.
And painting your portrait of pain so beautifully.
As I sit and contemplate,
Only now do I see the unshed tears under your heart.