Love apart


the earth quenched her thirst again
dried up your blood & feasted as we cried
watching us doubt, as we clenched our faith
the sand misses the quality of your steps
in hand-stitched Italians that you loved
all your promises are phoenixes with ashes
all of mine are now blamed on lack of time
this is an ode you won’t get to read
another child you won’t see his smile
another day you won’t call me Makarfi.

Tomide Abdul

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