HOLDING A FLAG ALOFT
In another life, I am not my mother’s son.
I am warned, but I kiss the tattooed girl anyway,
refute fear. Grow addicted to life and do not conceal the sweet stink of it with bergamot.
I lock my hair and let my bluest lover run henna-stained fingers through it.
Take my black of a body to a gallery and wall it up with glass.
Recognize that it/I is/am meat, is/am meant to be a statement,
so I join the protest. Gyrate with abandon. Hold a flag
aloof. Sing solidarity songs
until my mouth is made wholly of wanton smoke.
I take art classes and paint to my heart’s content. Make everything I touch
my canvas: your skin, mine, the false wall in the living room, the naked sky.
I do artsy things, like get a piercing. Perhaps two. Do pretentious things. Laugh
with all my crooked teeth. I am as shiny as
every girl I have ever loved, as shiny as
reddened clay in God’s hands. In another life, my father’s world does not fold in on itself, reeling, when I stagger into it.
In another life, I live.
Chisom Eze is a writer, poet and artist living in Port Harcourt. His writing explores themes such as boyhood, love, grief, rage and the general ordinariness of being human. Chisom is a finalist for the Kofi Awoonor Poetry Prize and his work has appeared or is forthcoming at the Martello Magazine, Healthline Zine, Akwodee Magazine.