Songs of Anisha
“Epidermis,”
by Efe Ogufere
Beneath your skin,
Dark and lovely connubial vials
Hold ancient songs buried in liquid deep
A serenade in the Serengeti
A sunrise on distant hills
Shedding light on black and white
A myriad of hopes drown in murky waters
As my soul holds yours against the tides
We are the color on our skin, they said
But we shed red rivers when our heart is bled
The tears in your eyes form stalactites
As a wall of paint stands between you and I
Watch me wander through pigments
Trading ambivalence, lost in your essence
To the giggles in their glances and gossip
Color me blind, paint me deaf and let me pass.
“Zephyr,”
by Chima Iwuchukwu
What tickles the face of the river to smile
In this gently spreading circular waves?
What sways all these vegetation to the rhythm
Of unheard beats pulsating in the air?
What excites these leaves on the tree to tremble
Like a body suffering a fit of ague?
And what nudges on these harmattan-dry leaves
To rustle along paths of parched ground?
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