there is a thing you were never supposed to be
because you are
there is a person waiting for you to accept
fingers & toes notwithstanding
there is a you
patient
being
present not in glitters & gold
but mud & stardust
the stuff of clay molding,
sculpture existing –
you.
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Published by Laura Ekumbo
If I thought this section would do anything to represent me and all the nuances of my being, I might tell you that I don't know how to ride a bike, and I always say I hate the colour pink but it's not always true. If I wrote an 'I am' poem, it wouldn't be enough to satisfy whatever these boxes try to achieve. If you're reading this, I've probably sparked your interest in some way or the other, let's let that be the thing that defines me, for now at least.
View all posts by Laura Ekumbo