Tudu, Accra, 5:39am

When I took this picture, it was raining in my head too

Cloudy thoughts gathered, with unnamed thunderous voices

It is a flood in here

I wore my skin as rain coat, no one else would give me theirs

The rain still soaked through, mixing with bones and blood

The pastor in the trotro wasn’t getting enough ‘Amens’

He reminded us of the God who bled for sins

And asked, ‘Heaven or Amelika’

But we both know that nowhere cool

A man with no name sat behind me

A woman with no face say beside himT

They held hands, unknown to each other

At 5:39 am, in a damaging yellow car heading to Makola

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