Her sclera is a waned flax colour, like the husk of a ripe cacao fruit.
Dear Chinedu, It’s funny, but I just realised I’m free from all your drama.
The boy is taken with the forest, the musk of wet bark – bold, consuming,
The year Mama fell sick was the year Njideka confessed to me that she was
While I plunged the fishing hook into the river, I was thinking of you: the