by Sulola Imran Abiola
Dividing Watermelon
When I break hearts, it feels hypothetical.
Nothing is actually bought or sold,
it’s just a metaphor for poor decisions
like a math problem about dividing
watermelon. If I had three hearts and kept
none of them, what ticking rhythm would I
feel beating in my pulse? It’s a trick
question. You cannot divide by zero.
Watermelon is not actually hypothetical.
It grinds like gravel on your tongue,
the memory swallowed in perfect
pink cubes. That was late summer,
already too cold, a school uniform
hanging in a closet, a wool skirt
too short, but I promise I did not know
what that meant, then. I do not think
I would have answered those late
summer problems any differently
if I knew what optimism wrote into
the margins of my silence. Summer
ended like a ticking clock counting
down to an air-conditioned chill.
Alexandra Grunberg is a Glasgow based poet, author, artist, and screenwriter. Her poetry has appeared in Collective Realms, Not Deer Magazine, and Crow & Cross Keys. Her art was previously featured in Feral. She enjoys obsessing over fictional supernatural villains, hillwalking to isolated locations, and towns that are more character than setting. alexandragrunberg.weebly.com
Sulola Imran Abiola (The official Sulola) is a Nigerian photographer, a poet, a lover of art, a student & a public servant. He is passionate about telling stories in a dynamic & compelling way that embrace different paths to the same conclusion. His works have appeared/forthcoming in The Quills, Undivided magazine, Rasa Literary Review, Kalopsia Lit journals, Lumiere Review, Wondrous Real Magazine, ARTmosterrific, The Best Of Africa, The Global Youth Review, Defunkt magazine, Residezine, Conscio magazine amongst others. If he’s not scribbling on pages of square sheets, he’s either savouring the sounds of camera shutters or performing wonders in the kitchen.