Every morning, I break
the sky against my tongue.
let me tell you something about
language: some blank spaces
were born to remain blank.
I should confess why I love space:
in space, no one can hear you break.
faith is what remains
after the fire has turned to ashes.
at night, i discover i still have
the bite marks i asked God
to conceal under moonlight.
maybe someday, I'll look at my hands
and tell it hold something firmly.
I fall through my
body like catfish.
Abiodun Salako is a Nigerian Broadcaster, Copywriter, Post Apocalyptic Adam, and resident at sea. In his spare time, he daydreams of Eden. He believes poetry, willy-nilly, is the blood of the soul. His poems have appeared in Africanwriter, Dwartsonline, ThespeakingHeart, WriteNowLit LocalTrainMag and elsewhere. He writes from Lagos, Nigeria. Say hi to him on twitter @i_amseawater.