We woke up to winds of the Atlantic kissing
our feet, our lives so small but everything to us.
Here in the South, not even thunders could
match your heartbeat, you who left your old life
with nothing but a backpack.
We watched the end of the world and chose
to live with birds and trees, groping
for each other’s warmth on cold nights
like Adam did with God in Eden.
So, if the world is different now
that I don’t belong in Heaven, do I have
to grow Paradise alone?
Answer me, dear ghost
of my youthful lust.
You who led me here,
naked and clueless.
Chinuzoke Chinuwa is from Ahoada East in Rivers, Nigeria. A law graduate of Rivers State University, he is interested in the essence of storytelling in various endeavours, from social justice and climate change activism to archaeology and astronomy. Find his recent work in Love Grows Stronger in Death, a project by Witsprouts. Some of his earlier writings are published under the pseudonym Jude Chike in Lolwe, Abandon Journal, LitGleam Magazine and elsewhere. He runs a Viewbug account for his photography.
