My anomaly
I often wonder,
is it my hair?
the bends of the braids
that upends the curled grades
and weaves my back
àzụm
my native tongue
I often wonder
is it my stance?
the calf that affirms
and seeks to assign
the ground beyond frown
over raffia palm, I float
in and out of time
I often wonder
is it my laughter?
the crackling troughs
that uncover the blows
the pause,
the shaded cracks
and joy claps
I often wonder
is it my skin?
coal scorched within
thinning in fold
sinning in roads
raptured by trench town yard
tunes to Marley and Tosh
I often wonder
is it my response?
that staples silenced rooms
while nursing brooms
the anomaly I see
that I resist
as I exist
Funding
No funding support to declare.
Competing interests
No conflicts of interest to declare.