Not enough planets drowning in the sea of my eyes

Ewa Gerald Onyebuchi

Chaos is a melody my body understands so well—

sometimes I fear the only tracks

in my head are ghosts burying their memories in a bale of broken glass.

say each time I sow lilacs on the field of this heart

I come to a harvest of bush clovers.

I'm somewhere, a place, my mind would rather not be—

but again, this body knows the way of sideway rains        

those moments of affection that cluster around your throat

Sorry, I meant to say my lover is the weightless thrill of loss

dragging my body to the lips of the knife.

Sorry, I meant to say my father cloaks me in the creases of his palms—

but the cold still bites into my skin: how I long for us

to become cities bound by a common tongue—

still the borders in our maps...

Sorry, I meant to say the sea in my eyes could have done better—

Oh fuck, drowning a planet isn't enough to tickle the

thickets of longing to sleep

I need chaos. I need fire. I need water. I need air.

I need every flower sitting by the ledge to bloom into a city of wings. 

Author Bio:

Ewa Gerald Onyebuchi is a Nigerian writer of Igbo descent. An alumnus of Osiri University 2021 Creative Writing Masterclass taught by Professor Chigozie Obioma, he was a finalist for the Spring 2021, Starlight Award for poetry. His short story, "wearing my skin" was shortlisted for the 2020 Ibua journal bold continental call. His interests are short stories and poems. His works have appeared or forthcoming in kreative diadem, the lumiere review, rigorous, the Temz review, rulerless mag, and elsewhere.

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