______forces me to mourn its death while laughter spills out of my mouth cascading over,
this is what pent up grief looks like:
drinking espresso the morning after I wrap my mother’s body in a white cloth, placing her into a casket,
My hands are brisk , eager to the task,
death allowing for certainty & I am grateful her pain is over,
whispering ; “it is finished”,
Like Christ’s body, emptying on the wooden cross.
I am holding loss as an inheritance.
A year after, the house becomes an empty sky
& mother’s memory scatters around like a collage,
While cutting a bulb,
it reveals new skin like a chameleon camouflaging to suit its mood,
& I imagine mother’s body,
camouflaging into dust, camouflaging into vegetables, camouflaging into onions.
Ejiro Elizabeth Edward is a female writer from Nigeria. She is a recipient of the SBMEN fellowship. She has been published in Down River road, Icefloe press, Feral, Poetry column and many others . She loves to dance and travel when she’s not busy trying to look for her friends trouble. Find her on Twitter: @Ejiroedward552