There is a tomb with my name
Yes, I own a grave
The cemetery has hairy armpits, I could tell from the embrace
I am empty, waiting for a skeleton to be poured into me like a tank
Skeleton is a frame
The frame means I will become a picture someday
With a smile or not, a fear or a thought
I thought graves were quiet
I thought quiet means I shouldn’t think
A termite is the strangest friend
A stringent friend
This is no longer a grave
I shall leave
Living is the only place I can think
Thinking is all I want to do
To wash off the mud, I think of a name
Zohar, meaning light
Meaning I have been dark
Meaning my mind has a shadow
And I need a new womb
Probably a placenta too
To be born again the grave must vanish
The girl must defeat the dark
And shake the dust.
Read New Leaf – A Poem by Mukonya Mukonya, Kenya
