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Naming is how I slip into promises - Naomi Waweru

Mornings like these I watch your nakedness

cling onto and away from my body

like a moth alternates from

light to darkness.

I have syllables of your middle name attached to my lips

like how you've always wanted them to be.

I still falter when I call on you because

naming is how I slip into empty promises

and sweet nothings.

I do not know how to care for a body

past grief,

it seems,

to write you into metaphors these days

only turns your full body

into a vessel capable of being torn and destroyed,

knotted together and torn again.

It seems,

your body safely speaks of it's own bleeding

when I am joined to you.

Nonetheless, I am unafraid of what we are becoming;

light, light,

tender, tender,

a mouthful of lessons on how to hold

a body properly past grief.

Your naked body is an imitation of such tense mornings and

I am still drawn only to you.




Bio:

Naomi Waweru (she/her) is inspired by love, vulnerability, the yearning of bodies to be free in their connection and has an eye for tradition and culture. Her writings present an adoration for the body. She portrays it as your first sanctuary. She has works on and forthcoming on Merak magazine, a voice from far away webzine, Ghost Heart Literary Journal, Kalahari Review, Poems for the Start of the World Anthology and The African Writers Review. Reach her on Twitter @ndutapoems and Instagram @_ndutapoems.

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