I Now Bleach
It is in your loss I mastered the alphabets of silence,
& this one here bleaches me into memories and memories
and, memories, pardon, I lose count every time I get emotional.
This memory is almost silent, but, I hear it, sometimes ago
I learned photos to be the fastest way to run backwards
into time, I learned them/ to be louder than voices in fact/silence.
There are moments I turn to God without mentioning your name,
forgive me – I do not mean to do this.
It’s silent here, my heartbeat matches the defibrillator in your ward
last week. Here you are the memory every instant summons, and I
the body that bleaches into you. The silence here transforms me into everything.
I keep your photos for days like today, this time I will not forget
to say your name before God.
This time, I get to run backwards into time, into memories
with your face in my hand.
Adedokun Ibrahim Anwar is a homeschooled Nigerian, a teen writer who was born and raised in the suburbs of Lagos. He writes to speak in a voice that is meaningful communication, for himself, for those who seek to be touched in places where humans can’t.
When he is not busy catching up with deadlines, he would build bricks with toddlers.
His works have appeared or are forthcoming in Brittle Paper, Eunoia Reiew, African Writer Magazine, The Kalahari Review, The Shallow Tales Review,, and elsewhere.