A RUINED CANDLE WAX STILL BREATHES ITSELF INTO SHAPE

by Ugochukwu Damian

i’ve lost count of the queer bodies burnt this way

i’ve also lost count on how many queer bodies

it will take river niger

to quench the thirst of onitsha men and women

like water, we take shape

douse our light

& brew colors

for our bodies hold a spectrum

ozomena my lover

says nothing would happen here

let’s puff our pride like cigarettes

and then wear it like a halo

we hold hands

& tremor becomes the impulse

trudging through our bodies

although we are in south africa,

a bird remembers its way home

what happens when the owner destroys its nest

i want to hold unto him

like a figurine holding unto dust in kaduna

inhaling the harmattan air

i know a rainbow is an anagram

for any color it wants to be

we will make nigeria out of it

in my dreams

my feet no longer spell fear

nor jail

nor death

everyday i wake to ozomena

molding nigeria into shapes of tolerance

he is hopeful like a mother

awaiting her only son after a war

Source: From the Rebel Issue (October 2019)