by Eniola Anuoluwapo Soyemi
As the sound of church bells, she lurks
between cracks, adorning the pins that stop us from standing.
Shards under peeled back skin—
in the darkness, I adore you.
We mark it out on the front:
up then down; don’t forget
right breast after.
Before the rage,
it is how we tried to reach you.
The lights shoot back.
They will not allow us to see you.
The passing through bestows strength on the brave. First inside,
then a delay. Under—courage would be vulgar, otherwise.
Never beginning is the greatest fortune.
Silent whispers of gust through brick remind:
Breath in your training. And be rewarded
labouring in want. Under duress, permanently indebted.
Trickling down the back of her leg.
Mind how you go.