j.w i bless you for training my heart for war for making me believe it's not every girl who prefers her lover black and smart and whatever e.w i celebrate you like the way a country celebrates its independence like the way our house celebrated the conception of a barren aunty remember in junior high you crawled into my chest and grew into a burning desire and for the first time in many years i stopped cursing adam for stupidly falling into a hole dug by an eve k.s like the man nailed to a cross you are a god wearing human skin once in an english class we are asked to describe beauty and angel in one word and i wrote your name.
Ayouba Toure writes from Paynesville, Liberia. His work has been published (or forthcoming) at Praxis Magazine, Afritondo, Odd Magazine, and elsewhere