Poem: I Collect What Remains of this Poem in Another Dream By Enotor Prosper
My Father tweaks my skull a little more, making certain it doesn’t fall out. In the dream, we don’t talk. You could get hanged
Two Poems: Family Diary & Nudge of Home By Lukpata Lomba
Mum was loud only in a rush
of words that stuck to the walls of her spirit,
words that perished in each
step
towards sunlight.