but I’ll wash you clean. Bring me the bath water and soap, I’ll have to wash you off my skin off my tongue off my marrows, till you transform into a scum-flow I’ll trap in a bath bowl, un-forgetting to spill the water and the baby into a memory of dross. I am not your mother, oh country. I. am. not. your. mother. I can’t hold you to my bosom daily while you drill daggers at every inch of my thorax.
Shedrack Opeyemi Akanbi is a Nigerian, believer, and dreamer. He is currently reading for a B.A in History and International Studies at the University of Ilorin. His writings have appeared on Praxis Magazine, Kalahari Review, The African Writers, The Lagos Review, EroGospel, and elsewhere.