by Amanda McLeod
brisk as glass
take larkspur; blend into the color
of trees. green paper-boats obeying the
rule of upthrust – we are bodies floating
through time in a thine place for our dreams.
when we wither, the paper-cut turns purple,
bleached into room temperature iodine. we
are not alone. not in this sinking paper-boat
shedding its bark like waves learning the art
of sound, gushing through hollow bones and
light weighted paper birds. Larkspur purples
the weight of my ghosts. stained the house with
its reflection. as glass, we crack in our skin, in
our voice, in our nationality, in our sexualities,
in everything. gentle as a wound, loud as a
country ridden in grief. glass breaks
Dipe Jola is a poet, a lover of nightmares scribbled into lines of poetry. Her works are forthcoming/published on Kalahari Review, MEMENTO ( African contemporary anthology), Echelon Review, Turnpike Magazine, African Writer, amongst others. She was the First runner up for the Eriatar Oribhabor Poetry Prize, 2018. She finds her way in life by writing what she sees, feels and hears. She writes from the lower bed of a two-bunked bed in Lagos, Nigeria. Can be reached via Twitter @jola_ng
Amanda McLeod is an Australian author and artist, with a penchant for wild places and quiet. Her work has appeared in many places both in print and online, and she received a 2019 Pushcart Prize nomination from Ellipsis Zine. Her work has been shortlisted in several writing prizes, and won the 2018 Marjorie Graber-McInnis Short Story Award. She is Managing Editor of Animal Heart Press.