
Warri
all over, submerged in the depth of so much black gold, to suffocate in the thick, dark richness.
all over, submerged in the depth of so much black gold, to suffocate in the thick, dark richness.
In the long harmattan days of December, Our lips cracked like ripe walnuts Ruth travelled with me crosscountry – Ruth of the green eyes and open legs – We rode down expressways Fuelled on the blightness of our words. She stuck her neck out the window Left a trace of her scent across the hamlets We drove … Continue reading That Season Named Love