Two houses away, a compound holds a choir of sympathizers.

The seamstress’ daughter returns from the kiosk just around the corner, her braid a disentangled nest of sand and dry leaves, and her cloth rumpled by this evil dance she says was forced to tango her back to earth.

Mother sows libation, a prayer of protection, for my sister and waters it with her tears.

The neighbourhood spins in a cycle of anxiety.

One must store enough oxygen in daylight when the air is rid of fear because wherever the moon torches, there is the polluted air of uncertainty.

Here, we mutter in our hearts:

May the curtain of our homes never welcome sympathizers nor shall these blooming flowers attract predators’ admiration.

Because here, to bloom is to be cursed.

Eliongema Udofia is an 18-year-old from Ika in Akwa Ibom State, Nigeria. He loves pouring out his emotions/thoughts through writing poems. His poems have been published in Brittle Paper and Eboquills, and is forthcoming in Blue marble review. When he is not writing, he’s drawing and listening to music or solving mathematical problems.