Almost Home

My souls followed the moon

To the dark place it goes at 5:07am/

The first soul: rusty and rickety

From bending this way and that// for love

And still being left out; alone; wasted

Let’s call him Fragments.

Migrant is walking close by

A soul with with no soles

She’s walked oceans and clouds

Somewhere between unwanted and lost

Finding herself in tiny cubicles where her thoughts,

Wander too, maybe also desperate;

To get away from her.

Gun was not always my soul

She was desire/// dreams

She murdered every one of them

In secret corners where passions loaded bullets

She did not devise blood

But they shot at her first.

We have journeyed here

But the stars don’t want us

My souls tried/, hard to shine like that

We didn’t make it

Published by Yvery Anthony

Yvery Rosemary Anthony is what earthlings call me. I breathe Ghana. Everything is between me and the secrets behind my work.

5 thoughts on “Almost Home

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