i. A list of things that collect dust;
the Polynesian flower pot. the lilies you preferred to water yourself.
the missal: top most compartment of the medicine cabinet.
i’m thinking about belief.
and how cancer cells take their time in the host. also: slow deaths.
and afterlives.
ii. and before that; a sunroom. a bell-ringing ritual.
you swaying your hips to kwaito in your ill-fitting camisole
as if you could not possibly break.
iii. after: i observe light for what it does not reflect/sometimes/every time
a flash appears/i think it as one way dead things/may choose to reincarnate/
everyone who saw you last says/your bones disintegrated/into shards/
like porcelain/
i cannot stop replaying the crack sound.
Naomi Nduta Waweru, Swan XVIII, writes her poems, short fiction and essays from Nairobi, Kenya. Her writing has been published in Lolwe, The 2023 Best Spiritual Literature Anthology of Orison Books, The Weganda Review, Ubwali, The Tribe, Poetry Column-NND, Clerestory, Down River Road, PepperCoastMag, Olney, Paza Sauti and elsewhere. Her essay, “The Beacons. The bearers of Our Light” was listed in Afrocritik’s 50 Notable Essays from Africa in 2024. She made the 2023 Kikwetu Flash Fiction Contest longlist, is a Best of the Net Nominee, a member of The Omenka Collective, an alumnus of the Nairobi Writing Academy as well as the Ubwali Masterclass of 2024. Reach her on Twitter and Instagram @_ndutawaweru.
