reminiscing on home: circa April 2020 By Tukur Loba Ridwan

reminiscing on home: circa April 2020

six feet apart   like the length of my grandfather’s departure—
the distance between the earth’s body 
and the mortals in the grave  no hugs
no handshakes  faint pleasantries laced 
with caveats    to be wary  is to be safe  
and would you rather  be sorry when 
you could be safe?  they took
the sun away  from us— we sought light from
the eyes of our bulbs  taking a moment and
relishing the beauty  of our chandelier
the makings of humans radiated our skin
we may perish for what  we know not 
we have mixed safety with lethargy
in the same bottle of sticky ethanol and
the sharp stench intoxicated me  
fear knows no liberty   peace was
in the mouth  of a gun barrel in our cities—
uneasy  were the streets of tyranny 
it was a warzone  in and out of our bodies 
touch anywhere  on your skin   except
your own face  you cannot afford
your own beauty  with your own hands 
we have always been viruses  to ourselves  
perhaps we never saw  this network 
has brought us this far  if only my lover knew
the panacea  for longing  in our voices 
she would pick my calls  when we could not
find our way  to meet with our graved bodies
across a border  I knew she longed for my hands 
like I craved her fingers in my mouth   our minds
were constipated with urges  I kept sleeping

By Tukur Loba Ridwan

Biography:

Tukur writes from a coastal axis in Lagos Island. His poems have been published in Libretto Magazine, Erogospel, Art Of Peace Anthology, Z Publishing (Best Emerging Poets 2019), Best New African Poets Anthology 2019, Nigiga Review, BBPC Anthology and elsewhere. He won the Brigitte Piorson Monthly Poetry Contest (March 2018) and shortlisted in few others.

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