I am flung outside myself – of a breath drawn – of all that etched me.
My hands are cities besieged – they touched gods. Into the vastness – the stolen places, the flames I have burned in – they reach.
This is the making of shadows,
it is the clawing – the flailing – the reaching into emptiness.
We have morphed into whispers.
On this voice – a song lives – on this voice – it will wither.
Be prayers unheard – stories untold
This is a story – we have died in.
Beneath my tongue – an engine crumbles.
To arrows – to floodlights – to wings.
Eyes searching for the tombs they are laid in
See fire and hail – boys in babbling rivers – terra-cotta and weavers,
the fall of rain – portals and brass – through skin.
We see a hundred men – dance,
we see them – fall.
This body found a storm
It rages – thrashes – pours
thawing – a mirror – the red of a battle fought.
The strength that knew this body is on – a bedroom floor.
From it – my father says,
“Run ten thousand times, I will be there.”
A maze – a cotton field – a people – one million strong
Valleys and feathers – the Kilimanjaro in flight.
These truths – live in our hair
A sparrow that found the wind – wind that learnt to bellow,
the clay – the potter,
these are the bones that bind us.
Somto Ihezue is a 23-year-old Nigerian writer. Dabbling between poetry and speculative fiction. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in: Omenana, The Massive Company, The Year’s Best Anthology of African Speculative Fiction, Libretto Magazine, The League of Poets, SageCigarettes, and others. His poems were shortlisted for the Akuko Magazine inaugural issue and are currently long-listed for the Ibua Journal Continental Call. He recently won the African Youth Network Movement contest for fiction. The winner of the 2020 SynCityNG annual poetry contest, Somto has also been long-listed and shortlisted for the Nigerian Students Poetry Prize.
